


Kinktober 2020

by CalsLaundry



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series), Overwatch (Video Game), 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: ABO dynamics, Blasphemy, Blood, Boss/Employee Relationship, Breeding, Bunny Suits, CGL dynamics, Car Sex, Characters to be added from the other fandoms, Cheating, Choking, Costumes, Ddlb dynamics, Degradation, Domestic Relationship, Dragon Kirishima Eijirou, Finger Sucking, Glory Hole, Group Sex, Hickeys, Impregnation, Kinktober, Knife Play, Knives, Knotting, Marking, Mating, Mentions of Kidnap, Mentions of Murder, Mirror Sex, Multi, Objectification, Omegaverse dynamics, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Overstimulation, Oviposition, Phone Sex, Photographs, Pining, Praise, Priest Kink, Protective Todoroki Enji | Endeavor, Public Sex, Punishment, Restraints, Scent Kink, Size Difference, Slut Shaming, Somnophilia, Spanking, Teacher-Student Relationship, Teasing, Tentacles, Threesome, Voyeurism, Wax Play, Workplace Sex, body hiding, caregiver little dynamics, daddy dom little boy dynamics, dubcon, lowkey himbo Kiri, recording sexual acts, religious talk, self conscious reader, sweat kink, threats to reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:08:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 45,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26752609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CalsLaundry/pseuds/CalsLaundry
Summary: I'm finally doing a Kinktober!The list I am working on can be found on my Twitter and Tumblr, and is one I made myself!Character suggestions are welcome! If you wanna see your fave in there somewhere, I will absolutely try to include them, just throw me a Tumblr ask.Tags and characters will be added as we go, and warnings for each chapter will be displayed in the notes for it.On with the show!
Relationships: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Reader, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic/Reader, Alastor (Hazbin Hotel)/Original Character(s), Alastor (Hazbin Hotel)/Reader, Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou/Reader, Bakugou Katsuki/Reader, Bakugou Katsuki/Todoroki Shouto/Reader, Kirishima Eijirou/Reader, Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Reader, Reinhardt Wilhelm/Reader, Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison/Reader, Takami Keigo | Hawks/Todoroki Enji | Endeavor/Reader, Todoroki Enji | Endeavor/Reader, Todoroki Shouto/Reader, Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic/Reader
Comments: 149
Kudos: 752





	1. Choking(Alastor)

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings:  
> Dubious consent, chasing, religious discussion/mockery, threats to reader.

The priest is still rambling when you slip out of the church.  
The mass had barely started when your mind wandered, and the nosey whispers of neighbours didn't help. You don't think anyone sees you leave, and you opt to settle for a short walk through the graveyard close by; visiting the dead is surely an acceptable reason to leave the echoes of hypocrisy.  
You gulp the night air as if it'll wash every part of your innards of what you left back there.  
At least the dead don't parrot words of peace and love while muttering rumours and judgement in the pews. Every crack in the wood is filled with a lie from the community's most “admirable”, it's sickening. You're lost in these thoughts, lost enough that the headstones at either side of you have crumbled, little ruins rather than the marble angels.

This end of the graveyard is wooded, and the darkness is thick enough to hide your every nightmare. A sinking feeling, one of pure dread, settles in the pit of your stomach, and you try to convince yourself that the footsteps you hear are the result of an overactive imagination.  
But the hair on the back of your neck stands and a breath tickles over each one and you break into a run without a second thought. You run until your lungs burn, until the headstones are long gone and only trees and that all encompassing darkness surround you.

The steps are gone.

The breaths on your neck are gone.

You laugh at your own foolishness, and turn to where you think the church is. You wander back, though with every step, fear rises in you again.

_Why aren't the trees opening up?_

“Leaving so soon?”

The voice trickles from the trees with a playful tone, one that would sound almost like flirting if it weren't so terrifying.

“My dear, all I've done is breathe down your neck and lead you away from that wretched building you hate so much, surely the favour is worth returning some kindness,” the voice moves around you, as if someone circles you without moving, “won't you return that kindness with a little game?”

“I...uh...who...”

“It doesn't matter who I am, my dear, all that matters is you owe me,”

“Hardly! You just got me lost!”

“And it is through my kindness that you aren't a display of what lies beneath those headstones, my dear,” you can hear the menacing grin on this devil's face.

“You think it's a kindness to _not_ kill me?!”

“Well, would it be kind to kill you?”

You stay silent.

“Perhaps it would, perhaps that's what you want? Did you come to these woods to fizzle from existence?”

A hand reaches around your shoulders and grabs your chin.

“Do you want to see what it would be like to dance along that edge?”

You try to pull back but you bump against a body and you stiffen.

“Perhaps to tease you with the possibility of oblivion would be a kindness,” the hand drops to your throat and squeezes just the smallest bit and you hate how much it stirs you.

“Would it make you grateful to see whatever your end might be? Would you be humbled to dangle from that edge by a hair?” they squeeze tighter and you hold back whatever noise your throat threatens to make.

“Or would you give yourself to that abyss?”

His grip tightens and you struggle to breathe.

_This shouldn't feel good._

“Oh you want to tease it, to stare into it until it stares back and then you'll scuttle back from the edge, won't you?” another squeeze and a moan finally escapes.

He stills.

And you hear his grin widen.

“Ah so the edge is _that_ enticing, is it?” his other hand slips between your legs, but the soft “no wait” that slips from you is lost to another moan.

“I don't think you mean that, my dear,” he squeezes at random and each one sends a shudder through you, “let's see how close we can get you to both edges, and let's see which one you slip over first.”

He alternates between squeezes and the press of his fingertips, until his hand sneaks under your clothes and presses to your sex and your back arches.

“A sensitive one,” he chuckles, I don't usually play with humans, but you're quite a joy, my dear,”

His fingers twist and tease and it isn't long before moans sneak from your throat with a soft beg under each one. But his fingers leave your skin and press into your mouth instead; “quiet now; you'll wake the dead.”

With his hand still on your throat, his other fingers leave your mouth, and he circles until he's before you, and the image-whether you're blessed or cursed with it- is of some impossible being.  
He's tall, taller than any human you know, and you see now that his skin is tinged grey. His smile is some impossibly wide and jagged mess, he's well dressed, but everything about him; his hair, his ears, his outfit, his eyes are all the red of the Devil himself.  
He loosens his grip on your neck until it's a bare breath of a touch, and He bends until he's nose to nose with you.  
Your face relaxes, and you wonder why such a thing doesn't scare you.

“My dear, aren't you such a relaxed little thing?” his grip tightens and his face twists, still smiling but that smile is different, it goes beyond menacing and there's such threat in it that your stomach drops again, “I preferred you when you were scared, how disappointing.”

He steps back, and puts his hands behind his back.

“Run. Don't look back. I'll decide what to do with you when I catch you,” you open your mouth to question him, but he speaks before you can, “if you dawdle, I'll kill you right here. Who would find you this deep in some unknown woods?”

That lights a fire under you.

The forest only gets more mazelike as you venture further, and you wonder how that thing could ever catch you when it's such a confusing mess in here. Your confidence grows; surely he can't.  
But there's a touch of disappointment with it. What he was doing wasn't so bad...  
You slow to a stop to catch your breath, but at a nearby _crunch,_ you take off again.  
You barely pass two trees when those same long thin fingers wrap around your neck and slam you against the tree. The impact winds you but you groan in the same moment from sheer enjoyment.

“Well then, my prize, what will I do with you?” he leans down, close enough that your nose tingles.

He squeezes your neck again until another moan slips from you and he laughs so joyously. His free hand slips under your clothes again, though this time not with the same teasing pace. He touches you with enthusiasm, eyes wide and attentive to every noise you make.

“Remember, my dear,” his fingers touch in a way that pulls a high pitched moan from you, “there are two edges.”

Your back hits the forest floor and you gasp, both from the shock and the need for air, but he doesn't give you much time to recover. He's on top of you; he shoves clothes out of the way, grasps your neck with two hands, and something slips against you, right between your legs, but you can't look down.  
It continues in some rhythmic fashion, never quite entering you, but paired with the choking and how he looks above you, your body starts to tense.

“There's one edge,” he sounds so satisfied with himself, but then he squeezes harder and ruts faster and you cannot focus on his voice enough to know how he sounds anymore, “perhaps we should bring the other edge closer, hmm?”

Another squeeze and another rut of his hips and your body lets go. You moan and your back arches as the pleasure washes through you, though the grip he has on your throat hurts by now.  
He leaves as quick as he arrived, and you're left messy and panting on the ground. With some effort, you drag yourself to standing, and it's only then that he reappears, still put together as if nothing had happened.

“Ah, I simply went to check no one would see you on your way back to town, I thought you'd take more than those few moments,” he helps you dress, “perhaps I will need to play with the edges more next time, hmm?”

With your demon, who finally introduces himself as Alastor, leading the way, the church is back in sight. Much of the town is gathered by the doors, gossiping no doubt, but as you blend back in with them, you hear hushed whispers of some cryptid. There's speculation of witches and devils and banshees and your curiosity peaks when a few say they heard this monster during mass. You wonder if it's your Alastor playing tricks.

But you feel him lean over your shoulder, and glance to see him perfectly disguised as a human, though that smile is just as chilling; “seems you've become a mystery yourself, my dear.”


	2. Costumes(Aizawa Shouta)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> None!
> 
> But let me know if you catch a little reference to one of my favourite creators out there~

“Is there any fantasy you have that you've never told me about?”

You have barely recovered your breath when the question pops to mind, and Shouta glances at you when you do.

“Honey, I admire your stamina but-”

“No! Not for right now!” you nudge him and he chuckles. His arm is stretched out below the pillows and you roll onto your side to rest your head on his shoulder.

“I just mean, in case someone was doing anything for your birthday or something,”

“Someone?” he raises a brow and with a smirk on his lips, he leans in close, “I mean, I'm sure Hizashi wouldn't mind some of the ideas...”

You groan and he laughs at your frustration, “okay, okay. I mean, we've tried a lot, at this point, it's hard to think of anything we've left out.”

“You're not wrong. Wow, we have been adventurous,” you laugh with him, “though y'know what we haven't done?”

“Hmm?” his attention is barely there, sleep sneaks up on him.

“Anything like...on the cliché side of things,” you ponder for a moment and look for his reaction.

“Cliché?”

“Well, maybe that's not the right word...”

“What is?” he's a bit more aware now, as if he's just a few pages behind.

“I mean,” you don't know why it's so embarrassing to say, you've done a remarkable amount with Shouta in your time together, plenty more taboo than this, “like when people wear costumes the other likes.”

“Are you suggesting sex in cosplay?” he smirks.

“Not quite! Those are expensive, and sex with a wig would be hell...” he laughs, but his expression is one that clearly begs for more information, “just...costumes. Typical things, maid outfits,” you watch for a reaction, nothing, “school girl outfits,” still nothing, “bunny suits,” now that gets a reaction. Not quite a verbal one, but you know he imagines it.

“A good idea,” he leans forward and kisses your nose, “but not one we can entertain in the dead of night.”

Maybe not.  
But when Shouta falls asleep, you grab your phone.

*

A few days go by, and the weekend is within reach. Friday is a day off for you, but Shouta has classes. The house is quiet without him, but when there's a knock on the door from the postman, you're thrilled he isn't at home.  
The suit is black velvet and the ears match. The cuffs and collar are the style of a button down with their own buttons a matching black velvet. The fishnets however...  
When you slip them on, you wonder for a moment why they don't feel quite right. Like something is missing.  
And something is.  
They're crotchless.  
It feels so...filthy, and you wonder how it will feel when you're fully dressed.  
You check the time; Shouta will be home in an hour. That's plenty time.

You're sitting on the end of the bed when you hear Shouta call from the front door.

“In here,”

You straighten up and cross your legs, and Shouta steps in the door.

“What a day, I-”

He stops dead when his eyes meet yours.  
His gaze drops over you, and you see the pure lust and admiration.

“You like it?”

He drops his bag, silent as he crosses the room, and his hands go to your waist.

“Look. At. You.” he punctuates each word with a squeeze, and the words themselves are more a growl. He doesn't give you time to respond; he hooks his hands under your knees and lifts you further back to crawl between your knees. He kisses you long and passionate as he always does, but you can taste the desperation. His hands creep up your legs and toy with the edges where it barely covers your sex.

“Are you...” he trails off, and you cup a hand under his chin and raise it until he looks at you.

“Find out,” there's a playful tilt in your words, and he pulls back only to drop his shoulders against the bed, his hands hook under your knees from below them, and he presses his nose between your legs. He inhales and his exhale is a shuddering groan.  
You can feel his kisses through the fabric and you sigh at the feeling.  
Shouta is a relaxed man, he takes his time with everything, including sex.  
But his enthusiasm has his hands roaming and groping and pulling the obstacle of cloth between your legs to the side to get a better taste.  
He stills when your bare sex comes into view and his eyes dart to yours for just a moment. But it's only a momentary lapse; his head dips and his tongue explores you with twitches and flicks that send fireworks through your body.

“Sho-fuck!- Sho, don't wanna cum from just this, please,” the words tumble from you and he doesn't even tease. With a final press of his tongue, he leans back on his ankles. He undoes his trousers as he captures your mouth in another kiss and you moan against his lips. With fumbling hands, you try to push the suit down in an effort to wriggle out of it.   
But Shouta has other plans.  
He grasps your wrists, softly kisses each one, and whispers; “behave yourself, bunny, it comes off when I say so.”

He trails his hands over you, down to your waist for a quick moment before one arm wraps around you and the other hand sneaks between your legs. He pulls that same obstacle to the side once more and presses into you with a groan. He gives you a moment to adjust, and at the hint of a nod, he pounds into you without hesitation. It's rough and filthy and you love it. The fabric rubs against you in the most delicious way, and you don't bother to hide your sounds.  
His fingertips dig into you hard enough that you'll bruise tomorrow, his grip and his thrusts are rough enough to force the fabric to bunch and your chest is left exposed. He doesn't complain; instead he dives forward and kisses every piece of skin he can reach, each kiss and thrust is sloppier than the last, until he grunts against you.

“Fuuuuuuck, bunny, I'm gonna cum,” he groans.

“Me too, oh God!” as if the words usher your orgasm forward, it hits you, and shamelessly, you call his name.  
He pulls out and his cum splatters over your tights and the part of your suit between your legs with a whine.   
Together, you catch your breath, though Shouta does it while staring at the mess he's made.  
You break the silence.

“Why does that feel filthier than when you cum inside me?”

“I have no idea, but it absolutely does,” he chuckles, then falls beside you on the bed. For a moment, he just looks at you, and then he offers a soft kiss.

“You've given me more ideas, you know,”

“If you provide it, I'll wear it,” you mean it.

“Sounds like a lot of birthdays,” he chuckles again, then nibbles his lip, “how do you feel about being a kitty for a day?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading my work! For updates, giveaway info, and general thought process, join me!  
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/CalsLaundry  
> Tumblr: calslaundry.tumblr.com  
> Discord: CalsLaundry#9094  
> Pillowfort: https://www.pillowfort.io/CalsLaundry


	3. Spanking (Jack Morrison/Soldier: 76)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> None!
> 
> This one is SHORT because today was super busy, but maybe another day will clear up the ending!

You slam the door after you walk into Jack's office, a fine effort on his part to walk away during an argument, but you are _not wrong, god fucking damn it._

“I _had him_ , you don't need to baby me, Jack-”

“That's “sir” to you,” he doesn't look up from his desk, just scribbles at his paperwork.

“You don't need to baby me, _sir,_ I'm a fucking adult, and to barge in on _my_ mission like you have any idea of my process, I-”

“Quiet.”

The word is alone; an order.

Not one you're happy with right now.

“No, I-”

“I said _quiet,”_

“No! I ha-”

His hands slam against the desk and he stands at the same time.

His voice drops to a thread above a growl.

“I have had it up to here with you. I came out to your mission to help you, becasuse _you needed it_ , but you're _so stubborn,_ you would never have asked, and you and I both know you needed the help,” he licks his upper lip, almost a plea for you to challenge it but you can't and he knows it, “so either be quiet and get out or there will be consequences.”

Even if you can't challenge it, you can still keep his blood pressure up, anything to have him feel the same frustration you did.

“Consequences? Big fuckin' words, Jack, you still had-” he circles the table and stops dead in front of you, scarred face closer than an inch from yours.

“I _dare_ you to continue. So help me God, I will put you over that desk and you won't be able to walk for a week. Are you done with your little tantrum? Or do I have to make you shut up myself?”

You square your shoulders, smirk at him, and utter the one thing you _know_ will get him into the same temper as you.

“ _Make me then_ ”

He grabs your forearm and shoves you towards the desk until your rear is in the air.

“With pleasure, you brat,”

He pulls your trousers and underwear down in one tug and his palm meets your ass with a sharp sound and you yelp. 

He follows it with another, and another, and another, until you're dripping and aching for him in every way.

The sounds bounce from the walls with every strike, and your moans mingle with the claps.

He redresses you far too quickly, and gives you another soft smack.

You stand and turn and he leans in, lips close to yours and you can feel his smirk.

“What, you not gonna finish the job?”

“Not until we're home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading my work! For updates, giveaway info, and general thought process, join me!  
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/CalsLaundry  
> Tumblr: calslaundry.tumblr.com  
> Discord: CalsLaundry#9094  
> Pillowfort: https://www.pillowfort.io/CalsLaundry


	4. Size Difference (Reinhardt Wilhelm)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> None!
> 
> Man, you can really tell how much I love this one in particular *sweats*

It's easy to get wrapped up in Reinhardt's stories. You sit across from him, wide eyed and delighted with every word of some story you're not sure whether you even fully believe. But he speaks with such confidence that the excitement spreads through everyone, and his booming voice demands even the attention of those who were merely passing through.

“And this man, despite his size, tore through my comrades! Cast them aside like pawns on a chess board! They were no bigger than...” he casts a look around, and points at you, and your face pales, “than you, my friend!” Reinhardt continues his story, but your mind wanders.

Were you _that_ much smaller than your friend?

When the story ends and someone else starts up, you lean against the counter, still listening but your legs are getting tired. Reinhardt watches you with a questioning look and beckons you over.  
So kind of him to offer his seat but you feel rather guilty, so you mouth; _are you sure?  
_He nods with a big smile spreading his face, and you cross the room quickly.  
But when you get to his side, Reinhardt simply sits back in his chair, legs spread, and sits you between them with your back to his chest.  
He is focused on the story Angela is telling, but you can't hear her. Not this close to him.

Reinhardt is your friend but you've never been in such a situation with him, and suddenly you feel...small.

You already knew he was a big guy, but you feel tiny between his legs; you look at your knees and how much further his go, you can feel the width of his torso behind you spreading well beyond the limits of yours, and you know if you look up, there'll be space between your head and his chin.  
When one of his arms settles on the arm of the chair and you admire how muscular and thick it is, your mind wanders to far less innocent places.

*

You can't sleep.

It refuses to take you no matter what you do and finally, you get out of bed. You consider a shower, but the rooms at either side might be disturbed given the hour of the night, but there is a solution; The gym shower is a communal one, but at this hour, you wouldn't be disturbed. Not that you hadn't accidentally seen too much of friends in here before, of course.  
You grab your towel and shower bag, and you stalk through the halls, silent as the dead. It sounds like someone is working out when you pass the main door, but the bathroom is empty. It's sectioned off with frosted glass between stalls and for the doors, though Jack had told you stories of when there were no boundaries.  
As soon as the hot water hits you, relief spreads through your body. Your mind is finally quiet but your own soft touches stir your memory of earlier. You put your hand on your stomach and try to picture his hand in its place.

_How wide would I have to spread my legs just so he could touch me?_

The thought surprises you and you try to push it away, surely it's weird to think of your friend like that!

But he's handsome, kind, strong, and everything you want...

At the other side of the room, you hear the door open, and you pull yourself away from such impure thoughts. You hear them hum but they stop, you think at the notice of steam from your stall.  
You glance at the door and though it's only a silhouette, you know exactly who's out there.  
There's only one man that big in this base.

“Can't sleep, Reinhardt?”

He laughs, it sounds strange with the echo.

“Not quite, I hoped a work out would resolve it,” he steps into the stall beside yours and through that same foggy glass, you see the silhouette of him as he starts to shower.

You feel like a pervert for hoping there was some way this would show you what you'd been wondering about, but he interrupts that thought.

“What has you up at this hour, my friend?”

You smile; always considerate.

“Just...a loud mind. Nothing too bad,” you turn the shower off and reach out to get your towel.

“What would quiet this loud mind?” you wrap your towel around yourself and search for an answer.

“I'm not so sure,” you squeeze at the fabric as you consider simply admitting where your thoughts had wandered, “I think my mind just ran away with some things today. It will pass,” you stare at the wall for a moment, but Reinhardt interrupts your idle thoughts when he steps out and wraps his own towel around his waist. Somehow, he looks bigger without clothes.

“My friend, I will not force you to discuss these things,” his hand lands on your shoulder in what you're sure is a supportive way, but your mind kicks up a fuss again, “but know you are always welcome to express these thoughts. Otherwise, they will rot and fester in your pretty little head.” he pats you on the head and walks by with that same hum on his lips.

You watch his bare back. You stare at the way each muscle moves and when he stops and looks back at you, you do not look away fast enough.  
Reinhardt is a great many things. Confident is one of them.

“Or is your mind loud because you see something you like, liebling?” it sounds like a question, but you know he knows the answer.

“I-I was just caught up thinking about earlier. I just never realised how big you are compared to me is all,”

He rubs his beard then sits on the bench; “come here.”

You stop in front of him, though you realise that even sitting, he's still as tall as you. He reaches for you, and when his hands meet your waist, he catches your gaze; “If you want me to stop...”

“No!” you answer too fast, “no, it's...I'm curious, it's fine.”

His hands trail over your hips to your thighs, and he hooks his hands at the back of your knees. The movement is sudden and you fall forward but you catch yourself on his broad shoulders. Your towel slips and drapes over his hands but he pushes it away before you can even get embarrassed.

“I thought the same when we sat together,” your knees are at either side of his thighs, barely reaching the bench, “and seeing how small you are here, I wonder just how much I could get away with.”

He chuckles, but he continues; “just what was it that was so loud?”

Now that you're naked in front of him, you see no point in lying.

“I was curious if all of you is quite so...big” the words are embarrassing, and Reinhardt flushes for just a moment but he recovers with a small laugh.

“Why, that's nothing to be afraid of asking,” he pushes his towel aside and you're welcomes with the sight of him half hard. And that's still a lot.

“In return,” you look back to his face, “I am curious about how much you could fit,” he holds your waist again and stands with you as if you weigh nothing. His towel falls onto the bench and he leans you on the edge of a counter, your feet far from the ground but his grip still firm. He pushes one of your knees until you spread them for him, and he steps back to admire the view. And you can see _just how much he likes it._

“You can leave at any point, dear,”

You shake your head.

“Don't wanna,”

“Tell me if anything is too much,”

You nod. He digs around in his gym bag and returns with...lube? You give him a look and only now does he seem even a little embarrassed.

“I had a back up plan in case a work out was not enough,”

You don't tell him your plan was the same until he showed up.

He drizzles a fair share of lube over his fingers, and he slips one inside you. That's enough to make you gasp, but you admit, you're eager to feel the stretch of his cock.

“Reinhardt, you don't have to be so careful,”

He snorts a laugh and slips a second finger inside you.

“My dear, I'm doing my best to go easy on you, your eagerness is making that hard!”

You buck down against his fingers and grip his arm.

“Then don't go easy, Reinhardt,” there's a singsong tone in your voice and you hear the hitch in his breath at your words.

“I hope you don't regret those words, my dear,” with his fingers still pumping into you, his free hand grabs the bottle of lube again and this time, he drizzles it over his cock.

He smears it over himself, pumps himself a few times before he presses the tip against you.

“ Are you sure you're ready, liebling?”

“Yes, god, Reinhardt, please just get on with it,” you can hear the pout in your own voice and he laughs at you.

“So demanding,” he presses into you slowly and you gasp at the stretch at even that much, “but seeing you so eager is so wonderful,” he slots into you fully, leaving you breathless, “even better than I've imagined.”

_So he has thought about it too._

You don't have time to comment on his statement; he holds your waist again and interrupts your thoughts.

“You like being so small against me, don't you?”  
You nod, confused.

“Then let me make you feel even smaller.

He pulls away from the counter, takes you with him, but when you try to reach up to put your arms around his neck, he pulls away and offers you a little smirk instead.

“I don't think you can reach,”

You try and fail to, and how massive he looks from here makes your heart flutter.

He pulls back and-

Wait-

No-

He doesn't pull his hips back.

He lifts you from his cock and pulls you back onto it, and repeats.

Over and over and your mind goes utterly blank.

Everything; his size, his strength, his _cock_ , and now, he's using you like his own little fuck toy and you don't know how long you can last.

He shows no sign of falter, but grunts and groans your name and he picks up his pace the closer he gets.

The stretch is still very much there, even with your wetness and his lube, and you know that the moment you put your hand between your legs, you're done for.

“Touch yourself, liebling,” he grunts the words, “cum on my cock,” his voice drops and you squeeze around him at the words; “since you begged for it.”

You obey; you touch yourself wherever you can reach and he pulls you onto him faster and you squeeze around him again.

Your orgasm hits and your head falls back as you call his name. He's only seconds behind you and you feel every drop of his load empty into you until you're certain it's dripping out.

He sits on the bench again, panting but smiling, and you take the chance to lean up and kiss him.

“My dear, I think we will both be having a most wonderful sleep after that.”  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading my work! For updates, giveaway info, and general thought process, join me!  
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/CalsLaundry  
> Tumblr: calslaundry.tumblr.com  
> Discord: CalsLaundry#9094  
> Pillowfort: https://www.pillowfort.io/CalsLaundry


	5. Tentacles (Reaper/Gabriel Reyes)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> Restraint, overstimulation, voyeurism sort of.

“What else can you do?”

You're lying beside Gabriel, already crossing lines in the way you've draped your legs across him. He doesn't have boundaries with you, you're sure the higher ranks of Talon disapprove, but you both get the jobs done, so they don't question it.

It's a rare night when you're back from a joined mission, and you watched in awe as Gabe did things you'd never seen him do. After so long together, you were sure you knew all his secrets.

“Depends on the situation,” he shrugs, but you see something click in his head, “there is something I've wondered about, if I'm honest.”

He glances at you and you turn to face him properly. His eyes rove over you for a moment.

“Wonder away. You know I'll tell you if I don't like it,” you pull your legs back to your side of the bed. Without a word, he shuffles onto his side and watches your expression.

He smiles; it's a soft loving smile, but there's mischief in it. It's in those moments you see the man he was in the phantom he is now. Not in a lost way. You know he hides those parts of himself around the others. But with you, he is honest.

The smoke that usually surrounds him drifts to you, but solidifies into...tentacles? They wrap around your wrists and hold you against the bed. Heat rises in your cheeks and you pull against them; no luck. You try to twist, but they're stronger than you are. One sneaks into your palm, still holding you to the bed but allowing you to touch it. It feels like a snake, sort of; smooth with a sort of slimy but not wet texture. You grip it; it's firm, and your mind immediately flashes with ideas you shouldn't have.

“What is it, my love?” he leans in by your ear and plants a soft kiss next to it, “do you like it?”

You turn your head and steal a kiss before you nod.

“Are you having the same ideas I am?”

You nod again.

He leaves your side, grabs something from his bedside locker as he does so, and undresses your bottom half. He settles between your legs on his knees. He doesn't hide his arousal, but he doesn't touch you either. From the space in front of him, a dark mass slithers to life. He dribbles lube on it, and it prods at your hole. Gabriel looks your way and waits for your consent.

You nod a third time, and the tentacle doesn't delay. It squirms into you, slowly at first, but once inside, it stills completely.

“How does it feel?” his voice is low.

“It's...weird. Not bad, but it's not....I'm not sure how to explain it. It's exactly what I imagined but better but it's still hard to believe it's real...” you trail off as it squirms and pulls out of you.

When it prods again, it's thicker.

No, wait...it's _a second one_.

They twine by your entrance and press into you and this time, there is no testing squirms or wiggles. One reaches and prods and pokes, all with that same soft slithering feeling that makes you groan, and the other simply fucks you. It's eager and fast but so precise, and with every thrust, your moans get louder. Gabriel watches every movement, entranced by how sloppy your hole is.

“Do you think you could take a little more, my love?”

“Please~” your voice trails in some singing tone and he chuckles.

“That eager, huh?”

A third prods and for a moment, you're not sure it'll fit, but Gabriel adds more lube, and slowly, it pushes in to join the others. You feel so _full_ , you're breathless, and out of sheer habit, you try to close your legs. But another two shoot from the shadows and hold your legs back. The newest tentacle in you joins the first, alternating thrusts with it with it while the third happily wriggles. It's too much, and when Gabriel presses his thumb to your most sensitive spot, you yelp from the sheer over stimulation.

But Gabriel has never been one to slow when you're so excited. His lips trace the same spot before his tongue works against you, and everything becomes too much. Your legs shake and your stomach tightens and your moans turn to whines and you swear you can't breathe and then your orgasm washes through you, forcing your mouth open in a silent scream while your hips roll against Gabriel's tongue and his tentacles. They don't leave just yet, though they still.

Gabriel leans back and sits on his ankles. He palms himself as he admires you and the mess he's made of you, and with a grin and a bite in his voice he asks; “Is it my turn now?”


	6. Degradation (Bakugou Katsuki)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> Degrading language, slut shaming, objectification, photos of sexual acts, forceful sexual acts(consensual)

You've been leaning against the wall with Bakugou at one side and Todoroki at the other for longer than you can figure out. The music is loud and you're utterly zoned out from whatever the two of them are talking about, but there's an ache in your shoulders from the wall. You roll your shoulders and stretch your neck, it seems so showy(Katsuki always says you have a pretty neck). You know he watches, and you know the marks from last night with him peek over the top of your shirt. But Todoroki watches too, and when Bakugou's hand squeezes your arm, you know he knows. You don't mind; Todoroki is pretty, and the way he blushes when you offer him a smile for his admiration is cute.

Though, internally, you apologise for how you just used him.

Bakugou squeezes again to get your attention, and the two of you slip from the room. He doesn't say a word, just leads you out the back door and around to the small alley by the side of Deku's house.  
He glances at either side - no one around – and grabs both of your wrists. He pins them above your head and leans down, sneering with his nose pressed to yours.

“You really fuckin' enjoyed that, huh?”

You peer up, doe eyed, innocent, sweet.

He doesn't buy it for a second.

“Don't you act all fuckin' cute with me-”

“Awh, you think I'm cute?”

Bakugou smirks, and moves your wrists closer together. With one hand, he pins them in place, and the other covers your mouth.

“Shut up, you little whore,” you stir and he presses a knee between your legs, “actin' all fuckin _innocent_ when you know that bastard was looking at you,” he pushes his knee up against you and you whimper into his hand.

“Bet you'd love to have him see you like this, huh? Whining into my hand in public, like a pathetic little puppy,” his hand leaves your wrists and he pushes at your shoulders until you drop to your knees, “since you're such an eager little cock slut, why don't you show your worth.”

It's not a question.

Bakugou unbuttons and shoves his jeans down just enough to pull his cock from his underwear, and he doesn't wait for you to admire or sweet talk him. Instead, he shoves a finger into your mouth, forces it open and presses himself into your mouth without hesitation.

You're always cheeky with Bakugou, but you can't deny his dick is big.

And he knows it.

When you gag, tears forming in your eyes, he laughs, and pulls back for only a second to let you gasp.

“I thought you'd be practiced enough by now,” he shoves back into your mouth and you cling to his thighs, “what, you can't take it?”

He smirks and plants his hands against the wall as he fucks your mouth without a falter in his hips.

“Bet you wish he was watching, huh? Bet you wish he was joining the queue behind me to use that disgusting mouth of yours.”

You move your hips but Bakugou plants a foot between your legs and you waste no time rubbing against him.

“Look at you,” he tips his boot up so you can grind a little easier but his face is twisted into a grin of pure mockery, “fuckin' gross, you're getting off to the thought of him seeing us, aren't you?”

You moan around his cock and he presses a hand to the back of your head, forcing you to swallow him as deep as possible despite your throat's protests.

“I know you're wishing he was fucking you while my cock's in your throat too, you're really somethin' else, babe,” he groans and you know he's close. He holds your head tight and fucks your throat almost too hard.

“Bet you want him to cum in you,” you moan again, “what, you like the idea of being a cum dumpster? Of course you do, you're fuckin' disgusting, but it's what you're good for,” he groans this time and you know his knuckles are white against the wall.

“Your hole'd make a pretty damn good dumpster, full of my cum, that fucker Todoroki's, maybe a few more too, maybe I'll tie ya somewhere, spread nice and wide and let 'em use you for your only purpose- _fuck!_ ” too caught in his own scenario, his orgasm catches up with him and he pulls back before it hits.

“Tongue out, slut,” you obey, and he jerks himself only a few times before his cum hits your tongue and he groans, “hold it there.”

He pulls out his phone as he catches his breath and snaps a picture, then pulls you up by the chin with your mouth still open and his cum still on show.

He puts an arm around your shoulder, hooks his finger at the corner of your mouth and snaps a picture of the two of you. He saves it, but then he types a caption, saves again, and hits send.

“Swallow, and I'll show you what it said,”

You obey, curiosity getting the better of you.

Bakugou snorts; “You'd have done that for no reward too, wouldn't you?”

He turns the phone around without an answer and you're greeted with you, tear stained with your mouth open and cum on your tongue, Bakugou's finger at the corner of your lips while you look over at him, and Bakugou with a cocky grin and the caption; “wanna turn, half-n-half?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading my work! For updates, giveaway info, and general thought process, join me!  
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/CalsLaundry  
> Tumblr: calslaundry.tumblr.com  
> Discord: CalsLaundry#9094  
> Pillowfort: https://www.pillowfort.io/CalsLaundry


	7. Praise (Todoroki Enji)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> Insults to reader.
> 
> Not saying this is self indulgent but like...............

Your temper is barely together when you step into the elevator.  
Work today has been _hell_. Business men who found their way in the world with their parents money and open doors are so disgustingly entitled and the ones you've met today have only solidified that belief.  
One last run up to Mr. Todoroki's office and you can go home. You envision it now; order food, shower while you wait for it, snuggle onto the couch, and definitely not picture anything inappropriate with your boss.  
You shouldn't think about him that way, but it's hard not to. Mr. Todoroki worked for his place here, and he commands every room he enters, not just by sheer size, but with his demeanour and knowledge. He's admirable in every way, but right now, it's a struggle not to just admire how he looks in the suits he wears into work each day. If he flexed, the buttons would pop right off, and somehow, you wouldn't mind.  
Someone steps into the elevator after you, and you can see them eyeing you.  
You don't care for them checking you out but knowing you look good when you're going to be in front of your gorgeous boss, well, it's a help after such a day.  
The guy snorts and you glance at him.

“Everything okay?”

You hold the documents closer to your chest.

“Oh nothing. I just never thought Enji Todoroki would be so...lenient with his staff.”

“Excuse me?”

“He strikes me as a man who likes them attractive and well dressed, not...” he doesn't offer a descriptor, merely gestures.

You speak through gritted teeth, “ _Excuse me?_ ”

He smirks; it's nothing flirty or kind.

“Just wondering if you really think you can pull that off,”

Everything goes silent.

The elevator doors open and you leave too quickly. He laughs, you swallow your sobs when you knock on Mr. Todoroki's door.

You hear his gruff “come in”, and you cross the floor in what feels like a run.

“Mr. Todoroki, these are the last documents for your trip next week, including your itinerary,” you speak too fast, but it's the only thing that will keep the tears in.

“Good, thank you, are you heading home?”

“Yeah,”

“Are you alright?”

His question catches you off guard, but you force a nod.

“Look-” his next question is cut off by another rap on the door, “wait just a moment,” he glances at you and you nod. You sit across from him and check your tablet as he calls “come in”. You focus on the calendar for the following week, you double check Mr. Todoroki's schedule for next week to make sure there are no overlaps, you try to ignore the chill when you hear the familiar voice from the elevator.

He settles in the seat beside yours and you know that Mr. Todoroki sees you stiffen.

“Well hello again, stranger,” you can hear the same awful smirk.

“Hello,”

“You've met my assistant?” Mr. Todoroki is putting the pieces together.

“Why, yes!” that sneering voice trickles again, “though I had put them as an intern, you usually keep staff with a certain...look,”

You suck your teeth to try to keep the upset from becoming obvious. Mr. Todoroki's brow furrows and you can hear the stiffness in his jaw when he speaks into the intercom,

“Takami, please come to my office.”

“Aye, aye, boss!” comes the crackled response.

“As for you,” the words are directed at the man beside you, “may I see your visitor's badge?” the man hands it over and without a word, Mr. Todoroki snaps it clean in two, “it is clear to me that you are not the kind of person I want associated with our business.”

“Wh-”

“Heyo, boss! What can I do for ya?” Takami strides in the door, already an idea in his head at what is wanted from him.

“Please remove this man from the premises and alert the rest of the security team that he, as well as anyone from his company, is not welcome back on the premises. Goodbye,”

Mr. Todoroki returns to his paperwork and Takami leads the man out the door as if he cannot hear a word he's saying. When the door shuts behind them, the office falls to silence, and you simply stare at the desk, not making eye contact or saying a word.

What can you say?

How do you thank someone for that?

Mr. Todoroki puts down his pen and leans his elbows on his desk.

“Did he say something to you before?”

“Uh, yes, sir, but it's fine. Thank you for removing him, I'm sorry if my upset has caused trouble though...”

“Quiet,” you look up at him, expecting rage but you see a softness in his brow. He studies you for a moment, then motions you forward, “come around the table please.”

You put your tablet down and round the table, though his awareness of you makes you want to shrivel to nothing. His eyes are fixed on you the entire time. He turns in his swivel chair and faces you with another glance over your body.

“What did he say in the elevator?”

You swallow, but force the words out.

“That he never thought you were so lenient with your staff, that usually they're attractive and well dressed, and then, uh...” your voice goes quiet, “he asked if I really thought I could pull this off.”

His jaw tightens again and he waits a moment.

“Do you think he's right?”

“Excuse me, sir?”

“Do you think the things he said about you or suggested about you are right?”

“I...just after today, it really...it's hard to deny...” you trail off again. He reaches out and grabs you by the hips without warning and pulls you forward.

“Consider this an order,” even sitting he's almost eye to eye with you, “you are _never_ to consider the words of vermin as true, especially not when they call you anything other than gorgeous.”

Your cheeks heat up, and you squeak out “Sir?”

“You are the most stunning creature I've ever had the pleasure of being within reach of,” his hands, massive compared to you, trail over your shirt, cupping parts of you that you hate, the parts of you that man knew to comment on, “you're a treasure, one he could never understand or appreciate.”

He pulls you forward until you're between his knees, and he looks up at you. His hands trail around and splay at the small of your back.

“Even getting to be this close to you is a gift, and seeing you so soft and shy about it,” he chuckles and presses a kiss to your stomach, “is even better.”

“God, what I wouldn't give to show you how perfect you are,” you shiver at his words, but it's with an entirely different feeling, “oh? You like that hmm?”

“Y-yes, sir.”

“Use my name, this is not work business,” his tone is commanding but his smile is soft.

“Yes...Enji,” you test it out and his smile grows.

“Good,” you smile down at him, but he leans back, “turn around for me?”

You do without question.

Mr. Todo-no, Enji touching you is heaven itself, and you're willing to do anything to keep it going.

“I'll stop if you want, just say the word,” you shake your head, and even though you can't see his face, you know he smiles, “you're so good for me.”

Your thighs squeeze together out of sheer lust, but Enji's hands once again distract you when they hold your hips. This time, they reach around and unbutton your clothes. You know you stiffen again as your outfit falls to the floor and you're left in your underwear, but Enji pulls you back again and you feel his lips against your back.

“Such a beautiful little thing,” one hand stays on your hip, the other roams down the back of your leg then up your inner thigh on the other leg, “you're a phenomenal employee. You're smart, talented, on top of everything and without a word of praise, but to be such a gorgeous thing at the same time,” his thumb sweeps between your legs and you gasp, “you make my mouth water.”

He turns again in his chair, pushes you towards the desk at the same time and you follow, now caged between him in the chair and the desk. He puts a hand in the middle of your back and pushes until you bend over the desk, that same shyness takes over and you want to hide away from him.

“Don't you dare,” you glance over your shoulder and you're caught off guard by the way he's looking at you. He places a kiss on the top of your thigh at the back, then on one ass cheek then the other, then places a final one on right between your legs. You let out a small moan.

“That's it, let it out,” another kiss and another moan, “I know you sound just as delicious as I've always imagined,” another kiss but then he's pushing your underwear down and you almost panic before he places a firmer kiss there, “you sound good, baby, don't hide it.”

He rustles in the desk for a moment and pulls out a bottle of lube, to which you raise a brow.

He ignores the gesture for a moment and instead drizzles the lube over your hole and presses a finger to you.

“You know what it's like to work with someone you want desperately,” your stomach drops and you immediately fall into the line of assuming this is about someone else, but Enji adds a second finger and you gasp, “the number of evenings you've come in here all smiley and excited, in cute little outfits that make me want to worship you until you know nothing but my name...” he trails into a groan, “the number of times I've been here alone and wished it was you around me instead of my hand, it sounds disgusting, right?” a third finger slips in, your own arousal would be plenty by now, you can hear it with every thrust of his fingers, “I've wanted to fuck you since the first day you walked in here.”

You groan against the desk, but his hands leave you and you whine at the loss. He chuckles as you hear an unzipping and shuffling, and he pulls you back, the hot, wet tip of his cock pokes at your hole.

“As time went on,” he lowers you slowly and carefully.

“It turned into something else,” he bottoms out and you try to catch your breath.

He's so big and it feels like he fills every empty space in you.

“I wanted to see you happy,” he pulls your knees apart until your legs are at either side of his and his hands can roam you more freely.

“I wanted to protect you,” his hands end up on your waist and finally, his hips move.

“I wanted you to see yourself the way I do.”

You lean back until your back is against his chest and without a thought, you reach for him and your hand lands on the back of his head and tangles in the hair there.  
You pray he keeps talking, but he places kisses anywhere he can reach; your forearm, your shoulder, your cheek.

“H-how do you see me, E-Enji?”

“You're an angel,” he murmurs the words against your cheek, “diligent, hard working, gorgeous, sexy, _fuck_ , tight,” he chuckles, “and I bet you only get tighter when I tell you you're so good for me.”

He's absolutely right; you squeeze around him.

“Oh, you love that, you love hearing how much I adore you, hmm? How much you impress me at every turn? How much I appreciate everything you do for me?” your head falls back against his shoulder and you moan with absolutely no shame.

“Look at you, fuck, you're perfect. If only you knew how many times I thought about this.”

His hand sneaks between your legs and touches you gently, more gently than your thought he could with such weathered hands.

“I want to make you feel so good, you deserve every bit of pleasure, you deserve to be loved and adored and bathed in every kind word I can think of, but you feel _so good,_ I can barely think of any.”

You whine through your giggle, but the way he touches and teases every part of you becomes too much.

“Enji, I'm gonna...”

“Wait.”

It's another order.

He lifts you to standing, but turns you around until you face him again. He beckons you forward again, and you straddle him, though awkwardly and with a fair amount of help from him. With his hands on your waist, he lowers you onto him again. With care, you raise yourself and drop down, and you love the way he groans when you do. But you catch him looking down, and you know what he wants to see.  
His hands are still on your waist and you lean backwards until your elbows are on the desk, and you spread your legs until he can see himself in you.

“Fuck me...” he pushes and pulls you, uses you like his favourite toy, and watches with full attention when he sinks back into you, “you take me _so well,_ baby.”

He pulls you back to his chest and you hold onto him tight as he abandons the gentle pace and fucks you the way you've always wanted him too.

“That's it, you're doing so well, baby, milk my cock, take your reward,” his head falls back against his chair, and you take the chance to kiss his throat. It tickles your lips when he chuckles, then turns back down to you and kisses you proper. With every bounce, your stomach tightens, he grazes against your most sensitive spot and you moan into his mouth and squeeze when pleasure washes through you. He holds the back of your neck even when your kiss breaks, he grunts words against your lips; “so good for me, you feel so good, fuck me, take everything you need, I've got you,”. And when thick ropes of his cum fill you, he groans your name against your lips.

You come down from your climaxes together with panting breaths, and Enji doesn't let you go. Instead, he cradles you against him and kisses your head.

“You're amazing, God, everything I dreamed of and more,” you cling to him as you blush at his words, “I'll remind you every day if I have to. _With pleasure._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading my work! For updates, giveaway info, and general thought process, join me!  
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/CalsLaundry  
> Tumblr: calslaundry.tumblr.com  
> Discord: CalsLaundry#9094  
> Pillowfort: https://www.pillowfort.io/CalsLaundry


	8. Mirrors (Kirishima Eijirou)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> Negative self image.
> 
> I swear I'll be done projecting tomorrow.

Kirishima doesn't wait long before he has you pressed to the mattress.  
When he sneaks into bed with you, first nosing your neck with a soft “hiiii,” and then turning you over, it makes you realise how big he's gotten. Pro hero life agrees with him, but after all your years with him, you're still occasionally stunned.  
You've known Kirishima since you were in school, and yeah, he was muscular but only a little taller than you then. Over the years, he sprung up, and by the time he became a pro, he towered over you and his arms were closer to tree trunks in width. You'd always loved him, but you can't deny there's some appeal to how easy it is for him to hold your wrists to the mattress and protect you from the world. Though sometimes you can't help but compare your own much softer body to the way he and others from your class had turned out...  
Tonight, he's had a long patrol and all he wants is some love, he'll figure out what else he needs afterwards.  
He plants kisses over your cheeks and your nose, dotes on you with endless affections and words of love that make you hide and blush.  
His hands trail over you, eager to push your pyjamas off of you, eager to admire his love.  
But you try to pull the blankets up with a shake of your head.

“Don't look, Eijiiiii,” you try to play it off as cute.

“There's nothing I wanna look at mooooore,” he tugs off the last of his uniform, finally in just his underwear above you, before he plants his hands at either side of your head again, “Patrol was so long and quiet and all I could think about was getting home to you.” He dips his head to kiss your cheek again, and he trails down your neck. You let out a soft sigh, willing yourself to relax and just accept how much he loves you.

But you catch a glimpse of how you two look right now, and you regret the mirror door wardrobe more than you ever have.  
He must feel the way you tense because his face leaves your neck and he looks down at you with concern.

“Baby, what's wrong?”

“Nothing, sorry, just tired,” you force a smile, but he knows you better than that.

“Hey now, no lies,” he sits back on his ankles and you sit up, “I won't force you to talk about it, but you don't have to lie about not feeling good.”

Your eyes dart to the mirror again, and this time he catches the look and follows your gaze.

“D-Do you wanna replace the wardrobe?”

You chuckle, but he moves to sit on the edge of the bed, facing the mirror fully. He beckons you to him and you reluctantly follow and sit beside him. You look ahead, but your eyes are on him.

“D'ya know why I picked out this wardrobe?” He glances down at you in the mirror.

“Why?” Your voice is small, and he takes your hand, nods a little and you realise where he wants you to sit. It's reluctant when you sit between his legs, still clothed against his bare skin.

“Because I love being able to watch you,” he kisses your earlobe and nips it in the same breath, all with his eyes on yours, “your reactions to every way I touch you...”

His voice trails and his hands slide into your pyjama bottoms. With your hands planted on his thighs, you raise yourself a little until he slips them down your legs, but you hesitate.

“Every pretty part of you that only I get to see,” a rough hand traces lines from your knee up your inner thigh and stops before touches you properly. That hand skips to your stomach and pushes until your shirt starts to come up. He pulls it from you slowly, and again, you look away from the mirror.

“Even though I love you look in that shirt,” he kisses your shoulder and catches your eye in the mirror, “and trust me, you look _really fuckin' good_ in it, babe,” he kisses across the back of your neck, “I love you best like this; completely bare for me to admire every bit of you.”

You can't look at yourself like this; your eyes flick to everything you hate, and you look at the ground.

“...Is this why you were upset?” his voice is quiet, and you nod a little.

“You don't like seeing yourself?”

“Not...not all the time. But some days,” your eyes cast over your reflection again and land on his, “I hate this, and I don't know how you can look at me at all...”

“Oh it's so easy to look at you,” his hands roam over you and he watches them, “I love looking at you, you're perfect.”

He finally lets a hand dip between your legs and you moan, but you still can't quite hold your own gaze. His other hand cups your chin and forces you to look towards the mirror.

“Not tryna be mean, just, humour me for a minute, yeah?”

You nod and you try, you really do. You watch the pink of your cheeks spread down your neck out of embarrassment, but then, when Eiji really touches you, dips his fingers inside and you hate the way you jiggle. But his hand is still on your chin and his lips are against your ear.

“Look at how good you look with just my fingers in you,” he groans at the way you bite your lip, “and you look even better when it's my dick in you.”

But his fingers slip from you and he taps your hip – he wants you to stand.  
He strips himself of his underwear and you can't help staring at him.  
He stands at your side and with a crooked finger under your chin, he moves you to look at him.

“I love you, I love everything about you, I want to keep showing you just how much if you'll let me,” he steps behind you and kisses your jaw, “I want to help you see you the way I do.”

You nod, though you're shy about it.

“I want you to ride me while you face the mirror,” he whispers the words against your ear and you shiver, “and I want you to watch yourself when you cum on my cock.”

He steps back, shuffles onto the bed and lays back until he's propped on his elbows. You lean in for a kiss first then straddle his hips, though not before he grabs your ass and groans.  
He jerks himself slowly until he's fully hard(you're not even certain when he got a hold of the lube) and holds your hip with one hand and himself in the other. You lower yourself onto him with a quiet gasp. He leans over, and you realise he's watching you too.

“Just for a minute, I know I won't be able to focus on you later~” You blush at his words, but he taps your thigh, “watch yourself,”

You sink onto him and watch every inch slip inside.

“Look how well you take me, babe,” he thrusts then chuckles, “you fit me so perfectly, like we're made for each other.”

You raise your hips and impale yourself on him again, anything to stop him being so embarrassing, but his moan shoots such arousal through you. You want to pull that noise from him again, and your embarrassment melts away with every bounce. He's so loud, you're sure someone will hear, but he sounds so good you want to commit it to memory.

“Fuck, look at you, shit, you look _so good_ , it's like you're using me to get yourself off and I _love it_ ,” he grunts through the last few words and you finally do look at yourself properly. The way your body jiggles and bounces makes you cringe a moment, but then you see Eiji's eyes focused on all of those parts with pure lust in his eyes.

Are these good parts?  
He grips your hips with bruising force, and groans through gritted teeth.

“Keep going, keep going, please, you feel so good, babe!”

His head finally falls back and his eyes screw shut. His grip slips to your thighs, but your gaze is on his cock as it disappears inside you again and again.

_Is this what he looks at when he's on top of you? Is this why he leans back and watches everything?_

You can see why he likes it.  
And now, through some fanciful thought, you want to see how his cum looks dripping out of you.

“Touch yourself,” the order catches you by surprise, “fuck, wanna feel you cum on me, want you to see yourself when you do.”

You force yourself this time; you watch everything you couldn't before and you watch Eiji watching you and the chain of watching is what catches you. He _loves_ this, and you want to see the the thing that drives him over the edge. You slip a hand between your legs and touch yourself, and the sound he makes is _filthy_ and that just spurs you on. You feel yourself tense, your legs are getting tired, but Eiji grabs your waist and fucks up into you.

“I've got you, babe, I've got you, cum on me, use me, baby,” you call his name, “watch yourself while you cum for me,” you focus as best you can, you look so utterly wrecked. Your orgasm rocks through you, and he doesn't let up. You see the first dribbles of his cum on him, but then he pulls your hips down against his and the flood of his cum in you makes you moan his name again.  
He catches his breath behind you, but you don't move for a moment; instead you tap his arm.

“Eiji?”

“Hmm?”

He lifts himself onto his elbows again, and he watches as your hips raise slowly and his cum dribbles out of you.

He's lost for words.

But as soon as you stand on shaky legs, he moves to kneel and pulls you back to him until you're kneeling in front of him and he pushes you forward until your shoulders are against the bed.

“I wanna see that again...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading my work! For updates, giveaway info, and general thought process, join me!  
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/CalsLaundry  
> Tumblr: calslaundry.tumblr.com  
> Discord: CalsLaundry#9094  
> Pillowfort: https://www.pillowfort.io/CalsLaundry


	9. Marking(Bakugou Katsuki & Todoroki Shoto)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> Mild spit stuff, Bakugou's attitude
> 
> Continuation of the Degradation prompt

“Here's how it's gonna work, y'paying attention?”

Your back is against Bakugou's chest, your legs spread with his hands on your knees.  
Todoroki kneels between them, still dressed and staring at your naked form.  
He had accepted Bakugou's offer of a “turn”, but Bakugou's offer came with a scene he already planned out before Todoroki even accepted. He'd taken the two of you home, and now you're on Bakugou's bed between the two of them, and you can't say you're upset about it.  
But Bakugou's hint of possessiveness peeks through his every order.

“You use your mouth until I say otherwise, anywhere you can reach,” Todoroki looks excited at the idea, but Bakugou pokes Todoroki's forehead, “watch yourself, shit-head. Stick in line or we'll kick you out and have fun without you.”

Todoroki nods, and you have to admit you're impressed seeing Bakugou keep both of you in line.

“Whatcha waiting for, get to work,” Bakugou scoffs.

Todoroki nods again and leans forward. His mouth trails over your chest, his kisses are soft enough to tickle, and when you run your fingers through his hair, he gasps against you.

“Cute...” you mumble, then Bakugou captures your attention with kisses along the side of your neck.

“Isn't it? He's so fuckin' gentle with you even after seeing that picture, pretty impressive,” he bites down and sucks at your skin. You respond with a moan and a roll of your hips against nothing.  
Todoroki stops his kisses and looks up at you, cheeks pink and eyes wide.

“What, you like that sound?” you can _hear_ Bakugou's smirk, “see if you can get the same reaction then.”

Bakugou nips at your ear lobe then at your neck. Todoroki is careful of Bakugou's rules when he leans into the other side and kisses your neck so softly that you meet it with a sigh.  
But then he suckles the skin the same way Bakugou did, and your fingers tangle in his hair and the sound you make is _filthy.  
_Bakugou snorts a laugh against your ear.

“You love it, huh? Being marked by two guys at once? Gross,” but he sucks another mark onto you all the same.

Todoroki follows his lead and leaves another and another and when he sucks one onto your collarbone, you groan out his name in a way that makes Bakugou squirm. He grabs Todoroki's hair and pushes him off of you, for a moment you're worried you took it too far, but he nudges you forward.

“Why don't you reward him with a few marks of your own, hmm? And you,” Todoroki looks from you to Bakugou, “don't be afraid to enjoy it, you're already hard, and if any mouth is gonna make that worse,” his hand lands on your cheek and two fingers slip over your lips, “it's this one.”

Bakugou leans over your shoulder, and you lock eyes with him while he pumps his fingers in and out of your mouth.  
You see Todoroki watching with his lips parted, and you wonder if you could touch him.

“Don't forget,” Bakugou's eyes flick to Todoroki, “you can touch yourself, no one else, and you,” he slips his fingers from your mouth and grabs your cheeks with the same hand, “make him beg, babe.”

He gives you a quick kiss before he pushes you forward, Todoroki shoots looks between the two of you(it's rare to catch you two doing anything more than holding hands), but he fixes on you when you smile at him. He's tense, but that first kiss to his throat loosens him. He melts with each kiss, but when you make that first mark, his breath hitches and he whines.

And you want to hear it again.

Bakugou kisses lines up your back, licks every so often, and you know he's watching Todoroki's reactions.  
Every whimper from Todoroki forces your hips back against Bakugou, and his hard cock presses against the back of your thigh.

“Y'liked us both marking you so much,” Bakugou's voice surprises you, but he pulls his jeans and underwear down against you and you shiver with excitement, “how about we take that up a notch, hmm?”

You're already well prepared for him and he slips in with ease. He pulls you back by the throat and you groan, but Todoroki whines at the loss of contact.

“Come get it, you lazy shit,” Bakugou nuzzles below your ear before he starts his trail of kisses and bites and marks again.

Todoroki joins him at the other side, and while he's distracted, you sneak a hand between the two of you. You push at his jeans, he helps you push them and his underwear to his knees, and you finally touch him properly. He gasps against your neck, but he moans against each mark he leaves as he thrusts into your fist. Bakugou grunts against the back of your neck and moans a long curse as he cums in you. He pulls out of you, but at the same time, lays back and pulls you with him. Your back is against his chest again and his hand slips between your legs. He doesn't tease; he touches you exactly the way you want and your moan earns one from Todoroki.

“Y'said you wanted a turn; I got 'em ready for you,” Bakugou laughs, and Todoroki lines himself up with you. He snaps his hips forward with more force than you expected from him, and you groan again.

“Oh, y'like that, do you?” Bakugou's mouth works against your shoulders and neck while his hands pull you closer and closer to the edge. Todoroki works at the other side, as eagerly as Bakugou does if not moreso, but he pounds you at the same time, completely focused.  
With his lips against your neck still, Bakugou stops touching you and grips Todoroki's face with that same hand.

“Don't cum until I say so,” Todoroki nods his response, but as Bakugou tries to pull his hand back to touch you again, Todoroki grabs his wrist and pulls it back to his lips, and without a hint of shame and with his eyes on Bakugou's, he takes the fingers that were against you in his mouth.  
Bakugou lets out a soft “fuck” behind you, and smirks against your neck.

“Looks like you've got two biggest fans, babe,” he pulls his fingers from Todoroki's mouth and puts them in his own before slipping that hand between you and Todoroki to touch you again, “give us a good show, yeah?”

He touches you with _just_ the right pressure, the perfect pace, everything to drive you wild, and paired with Todoroki fucking into you like his life depends on it, you can't take it anymore. You moan out some messy combination of their names and squeeze hard around Todoroki as you cum.

“Your turn, pretty boy,” Bakugou doesn't even sound like he's joking.

Todoroki leans forward, and for the millionth time, bites into you, and you feel his cum mingle with Bakugou's inside you as he whines. You turn to him, your noses bump, and you kiss him. He's shy about it(funny when he's already cum inside you), but his blush only worsens when Bakugou steals a kiss of his own.  
You lay in a heap with them until you give Todoroki a mischievous grin.

“Say, Katsuki~”

“What?” he knows nothing good comes from that tone. You turn in his arms and Todoroki leans his chin on your shoulder.

“Y'know,” you walk your fingers up his chest and lean in close, “you've got no marks~”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading my work! For updates, giveaway info, and general thought process, join me!  
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/CalsLaundry  
> Tumblr: calslaundry.tumblr.com  
> Discord: CalsLaundry#9094  
> Pillowfort: https://www.pillowfort.io/CalsLaundry


	10. Public (Yamada Hizashi)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> Public sex, light humiliation, AFAB reader

The bar is loud.

You're not sure why you can hear Hizashi above the music, but he's never had difficulty being heard. It's a blessing and a curse(you've heard him outside your home, calling your name during the worst possible times). Right now, the noises are all together a little too much; you hear the clink of glasses, conversations from every direction, the beat of the music, and of course, your own friend when he leans in to speak into your ear a bit too loud.

“You okay?”

You nod, but you stand and gesture towards the bathroom.  
You battle with yourself on whether or not to go home, but the feeling of leather on the back of your neck pulls your attention back.

“You sure you're okay?”

Hizashi is concerned and it's nice, but you're not sure what he thinks he can do to fix this.

“Let's take a minute, yeah?”

There's a Devilish grin on his face. He takes your hand and turns you to pull you onto the dance floor with him. You have a moment of panic, but Hizashi hooks a hand at the back of your neck and brings your forehead to his.

“Y'trust me, don't you?~” his tone could be mistaken for mocking by anyone who didn't know him well, but you simply nod and follow his lead when he pulls you in close.

“I know it's a lot,” his arms go around your waist and his lips are right against your ear, “and I'll take ya home if you really don't want to be here, but I think things might have just gotten a little overwhelming,” you feel his face split into a wide grin against your ear, “and I have the perfect cure!”

One arm stays around your waist and the other dips and his hand slips into your underwear.

“What the-” your words are cut off as his long fingers slip against you, and you shove your face against his jacket in an effort to not be heard, “someone will _see!”_

“Not if you don't let them know anything is going on, right?” He dips two fingers into you and you grit your teeth to hide the noise, “besides, pretty thing,” his fingers leave your underwear and he pokes his tongue out to lick them clean, “seems like y'like it as much as I do.”

That's your moment to get out if you don't want to continue and you know it.

But you absolutely want to continue.

“Do your worst, 'Zashi~”

“Oh hoh hoh! We've got a fiesty one!” he laughs before he captures your lips and his hand dips into your underwear again. Hizashi kisses you exactly as you'd expect him to; full of enthusiasm and delight and playfulness(with a soft nip of a tongue piercing that's news to you).  
He notices your moan of surprise at the feeling of it, and he brings his lips to your ear again; “Can't wait to show you what else is pierced~”

He's pressed so tightly against you that his palm is forced to brush against your clit with every motion, and it pushes you closer than you'd like to orgasm than you'd like to be in such a public setting.  
But Hizashi has different ideas.

“Oh I can feel you squeeze around my fingers, baby, you gonna cum for me? Right here in the middle of everyone?” he curls his fingers just right and you push your face against his jacket again to hide the noise.

“No one's gonna notice, y'know, they haven't even looked at us,” another curl of his fingers and you grunt against his jacket.

“Or someone'll notice, wouldn't it be so hot if they did, huh?” he kisses your ear and his palm brushes over you again and you squeal, you know you're close and you're trying so hard to stop yourself from slipping over that edge.

“But y'know, I'd be pretty proud if they knew that all this is just because of my fingers,” he captures your lips again in a hard kiss and swallows your moans as you finally cum on his fingers. When his hand slips out of your underwear, he teases your clit with a small wiggle of fingers before he puts them into his mouth again.

“You're gross,”

“I am, but,” he holds your hand and leans down to meet your gaze, “I kept my promise to cure ya, didn't I?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading my work! For updates, giveaway info, and general thought process, join me!  
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/CalsLaundry  
> Tumblr: calslaundry.tumblr.com  
> Discord: CalsLaundry#9094  
> Pillowfort: https://www.pillowfort.io/CalsLaundry


	11. Knife Play (Alastor)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> Knife play, threats to reader

At first, you thought it was his hands.  
You told yourself you liked seeing the way his hands moved, how he grasped things. He has long fingers and the hands of the most beautiful of statues.  
Then, you told yourself it was seeing him work.  
When he made dinner, when he skinned a hunt, when he threatened a man who had muttered a comment in passing.  
It is only now, as you watch the light of the moon on the bedroom wall interrupted by owls that you realise there is a constant in each of these.  
Alastor's hand is tangled with yours - he doesn't spoon you, he never has, but he holds your hand through the night instead – and you lift it slowly as not to wake him.

 _He does have such beautiful hands_ , you think as you examine the details of it. You know you're trying to convince yourself that the admiration is a more normal one.

“My dear,” his voice is raspy with sleep, “what might you want with my hand at this hour?”

There's a teasing lilt to his voice and it makes you smile.

“Nothing, my love, I'm just thinking,” you turn towards him as he turns towards you.

“Then a penny for your thoughts, sweetheart,” he pulls your joined hands to his lips and kisses the back of yours with such softness. It makes you wonder if you've imagined his vicious features.

You take a deep breath; after everything you've been through, this would hardly be the breaking point, would it?

“You know I love you,”

“And I you, my dear,”

“And we've done a lot,”

“Enough to make a minister blush in only a few words,”

“And I love all of it,”

“As do I,”

“But I think I love something else,”

He stays silent, but watches you with a grin that says he knows too much.

“Your hands,”

“My hands?”

“I think so,”

“I think you're lying,”

“Then what do you think, my love?”

“I'd rather you admit it to yourself than have me tell you,”

You take your turn to be silent.  
It seems it won't upset him to hear.  
But what if _you're_ wrong?

“Perhaps I love your hands, but I love them most in a particular instance?”

“What instance, my love?”

“When holding...things,”

“Such as?”

“More...dangerous things,”

“Any specifics?”

“I think knives,”

“You think?”

“Yes, I think.”

Alastor pushes himself up onto his elbow and you scoot closer so he can straddle your waist. All traces of sleep are gone from his face and they're replaced with a layer of mischief.

“You think you like knives,”

“I think I like you holding them,”

“Does that mean I should hold one now?”

Your breath hitches.

“Is there one here?”

“I want you safe, my love,” he reaches into his own bedside drawer and pulls out a kitchen knife.

“This is for my safety?”

“No one expects a knife in the bedside table, even your own spouse.”

He's not wrong.

“Is this what you like, hmm?” he twirls the knife in the air and the moonlight glints on the blade.

There's a modicum of threat in his voice and your thighs squeeze together and you nod.

“Perhaps it's not the knife, sweet little bird of mine, but perhaps the threat it holds,” he leans down close, almost with the promise of a kiss until his lips are by your ear, “or even both, would you like to find out?”

You nod, you hands dig at his ribs to pull him closer but Alastor grabs your face and the handle and part of the blade press to your cheek.

“Now, now, little thing, stay still,” he pulls his hand back when you still and the tip of the knife traces a thin cold line along the shape of your jaw, “we wouldn't want any accidents now, would we?”

The knife tip trails down your throat, and there's such exhilaration in knowing how easily your own husband could kill you in this moment.

“I think we're thinking the same thing, my love,” you catch his eye and he smiles in a way you're certain would be terrifying if you didn't know him, “you're enjoying the threat, hmm? You're enjoying how easy it would be to just _push_ the smallest bit. Your life is in my hands, darling, and I think you love it.”

You start to nod, but the cold steel reminds you not to.

“Exactly. Maybe it is the threat...”

“May I, my dear?” his fingertips hover just over the apex of your thighs and you nod. Funny that he still asks permission for this with a knife to your neck.

He slips his fingers against you, relishing in how adorably excited you are for just this.

“I am certain I could make you squeal like a little pig for slaughter without even putting myself inside you,” you moan when his fingers brush against you again, but the touch is so brief that you whine, “but I think you need something inside you, don't you?”

The tip traces over your body, the cold sting of it is lost but the sharp edge alone makes you whimper.  
But it and Alastor leave you, and he sits back on his side of the bed.

“Come here, love, face away from me,” you don't question it.

You hook your legs over his, he hums approval and spreads you as wide as he wants.

“Open.”

The handle dips into your mouth, warm from Alastor's body heat. You lick and suckle and soak it, it feels so filthy, like you're sucking someone else's cock as your husband watches, but his own bulge presses to your lower back. Spit dribbles from the handle and trails over your chin, it must have reached Alastor's hand by now, but his chin rests on your shoulder, and there's such adoration in that alone.

“Let go, little thing.”

He pulls the handle from your lips, and you clench around nothing.

“I think I'm done threatening you with this, my darling, however,” he nips at your ear as the handle presses at your entrance and you already try to force your hips down on it, “I can entertain _that_ side in plenty ways, can't I?”

His free hand holds your neck and you go still. The handle slips inside, inch by inch. It doesn't take up as much space as Alastor does, but there's something about it. He thrusts it into you with great care but his fingers brush against you with each thrust. You gasp with each touch, but his hand is still on your throat, and his infrequent squeezes force new sounds from you.

“Are you going to cum from just this, hmm? My, my, I should have treated you to this sooner, I never knew you'd sing for me with just this,” his fingers brush against you in a more deliberate way, and you roll your hips down and right as he squeezes your throat, you call his name and clench around the handle hard enough that it stops moving. You fall back against him as you catch your breath and he kisses your cheek soft as a butterfly. He slips the knife from you, but at the same time, lifts you until you're impaled on him. The blade, now steely cold again, presses to your neck, and Alastor whispers against your ear;

“Careful, sweet little thing, I'm not done with you yet~”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading my work! For updates, giveaway info, and general thought process, join me!  
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/CalsLaundry  
> Tumblr: calslaundry.tumblr.com  
> Discord: CalsLaundry#9094  
> Pillowfort: https://www.pillowfort.io/CalsLaundry


	12. Glory Hole (Yamada Hizashi)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> Student/teacher(college student).

“Essays in at 9am Monday! No excuses, you know the drill! Have all the fun you want this weekend, I don't care if you have to be dragged in by your two friends to sign off on your essay being there, just get it in _on time_!” Mr. Yamada's voice booms around the lecture hall with inhuman bass. How such a slender man forced such a volume from himself, you'd never understand. “That goes especially for those of you who turned in _late_ last time,” he casts you a look over his glasses and you wince.

_It really was a printer issue..._

But you can't help the small shiver that runs through you when he does give you that look. Loud and a little humiliating as he is, Mr. Yamada is _hot_. Even when he's giving you a little indiscreet dig, you admire the way his hair falls down his back, how his jeans cling to him, and how that shirt is just loose enough to let you see a sliver of skin when he gets his own bag ready to leave. Day one you thought that moustache was the most stupid thing you'd ever seen, now you want to know what it feels like against your thighs.

Since your last printer issue, you had given yourself more time, and the essay is ready and printed. But of all of your friends, you're the only one with it done, and your stomach flutters with the excitement of what that means for your weekend; with your friends busy, you don't need an excuse to avoid plans and indulge in your secret work.

*

For a Saturday, your little corner is quiet.

The bar owner knows well what you get up to but you'll slip him a $20 at the end of the night and he'll let you off the hook. The last stall in the men's room is marked with an “Out of Order” sign, and you're locked in there, a cushion on the ground for your knees and a bottle of water because it's just good sense. You have a small bag of items at the ready; condoms, lube, wipes, truly you've prepared yourself well with this little set up. You're sitting on the cushion, legs folded, documentary playing through your headphones when the door shuts on the far side of the bathroom. You tug your headphones out in just enough time to hear the conversation.

“Look, you need to deal with this stupid crush, you might as well get it out of your system,”

You half recognise the voice but you can't place it.

“Ugh, I _can't_ , not to be gross or anything, but I can't get off to _anyone else-”_ the rest is muffled when the door opens and shuts again, but the steps come closer and the stall door next to yours opens. There are three knocks, and you knock back once. A few rolled up bills pop through the hole, and as you count them and put them away, the first voice speaks again.

“Just get it out of you for now, it'll be better than your hand and it might calm you the fuck down for a few minutes.”

The second voice offers a sigh as the first leaves, but you hear a familiar unzipping sound. A long cock slips through the hole and you hear the person muttering on the other side; something about being nervous, not having done this before, a little laughter. You take the tip in your mouth and he groans. He sounds so _eager_. He pushes in further, and the tip tickles your throat even with the barrier of the stall divider.

“ _Fuck,_ you're good,” you swallow around him and he whines. You glance up and you see his hands at the top of the divider, his knuckles are already white from the grip.

“C-can I keep talking? Is that okay?” you can't laugh with his cock in your mouth, but there's a note on the other side of the divider: 1 for yes, 2 for no, 3 for "are you there?". You offer him one knock and he sighs in relief.

“You just feel so good, I bet you look real cute, can I say that? Heh.” he groans again as you pull back until the tip are against your lips.

“Your friend was talking about a crush, right?”

You feel the twitch of surprise at you speaking.

“Y-yeah,” he sounds reluctant to be that honest.

“Think about your crush, sweetheart, I won't be upset.”

You push forward, taking every part of him in one fell swoop, and he swears but his hips buck and you know what he wants. Bracing yourself against the stall, you lean close as you can, jaw slack, and you still. His hips snap, immediately setting a pace you'd prefer his hands in your hair for. He fucks your throat as well as he can, his whines are shameless, anyone would hear but he doesn't hide them.

“So fuckin' cute, I bet you sing like a pretty little bird when you're bein' fucked, I know it,” he whines again, but then he whines _your name_ and suddenly you absolutely do know that voice and you push forward, impossibly close as he thrusts forward. You moan around him, tempted to slip a hand into your underwear and catch up. But then his hips still as his cum slips over your tongue and down your throat. He pants as he pulls his cock from your mouth. You can't pinpoint how you're feeling. But your focus is broken when he laughs; it's an embarrassed sound.

“Th-thank you?”

You laugh at his awkwardness.

“No problem. Good luck with your crush!”

“Heh, thanks!”

With that, Mr. Yamada disappears, back to the bar you're sure, and you know the rest of your night can't be nearly as eventful.

*

Monday morning at 10 to 9, you stand alone outside the lecture hall as Mr. Yamada arrives.

“Well well well, this early! I didn't think you knew the school opened before 9am,” he chuckles at his own joke, and even though you hadn't planned on ever even alluding to anything from Saturday night, you can't resist a joke of your own.

“Well, y'know a little bird told me,”

You bite your cheek as his face pales, and he heads inside the hall without another word. This will be fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading my work! For updates, giveaway info, and general thought process, join me!  
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/CalsLaundry  
> Tumblr: calslaundry.tumblr.com  
> Discord: CalsLaundry#9094  
> Pillowfort: https://www.pillowfort.io/CalsLaundry


	13. Voyeurism (Aizawa Shouta)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> Student teacher dynamic(college student), dubious consent, scent kink vibes

“Meet me after class,”

Mr. Aizawa's words were some of the first you'd heard this morning, and you've been a bundle of nerves all day. Of all days, Friday was not one you wanted to be held back by your professor, but your last essay was somewhat lacking. Maybe more than just “somewhat lacking” if he has you visiting him after class hours.  
The corridors are eerily empty and your dragging footsteps echo back at you with each step. The offices are in a hallway separated from the other corridors by a door, and you slip in with your heartbeat thrumming more every step. You stand outside his office door and take a breath. Three knocks, a gruff “come in”, and you open the door to see him at his desk, coffee in one hand and your essay in front of him.

 _Fuck_.

“Right on time, okay, let's go over this. Stop looking so scared, it's just recurring mistakes. The solutions sink in better in a one to one. Come sit down.”

You slip off your hoodie and sit beside him. As he leads you through your mistakes, explains your biggest pitfalls, you feel the heat of his thigh near yours. You shuffle in your seat, but you try to focus.  
But then his arm goes across the back of your chair and your focus is lost.

“See, it's just small things that'll make all the difference. But it wouldn't be fair to call those things out in front of a class. Just step back, give yourself extra time and you'll be fine,” he pats your back, a reassuring gesture but you almost groan at the contact, “now, I'm sure you have some weekend plans, and I am sorry for keeping you from them. Let's hope it's the last time I have to.”

You barely look at him, only squeak your “goodbye” and rush from the room. At the second door – the one back to the main corridors – you stop to take a breath, but something is wrong.  
You tap your pockets; phone, keys, wallet... _hoodie.  
_ You groan at the thought of going back and subjecting yourself to him again. What's worse is he doesn't even seem aware of how handsome he is. Especially today with his hair in that loose bun. You take another breath and steel your nerves as you make your way back to his office.  
The door is slightly ajar, you mustn't have closed it right, but before you can knock, you hear a rumbling groan. Your breath catches at the sound and your mind goes to the worst places.

_Surely he's not-_

Another groan, and you peek through the slit in the door. Guilt trickles through you, you shouldn't watch this! But you can't take your eyes off of him.  
Mr. Aizawa is slouched, his head thrown back, and his hand between his legs. His strokes are slow, indulgent, but his moans are muffled by something.

 _Your hoodie_.

He has it pressed to his nose, and his stroke speeds up when he inhales.

“ _Fuck!_ ”, he tries to keep his voice low but you hear it loud as a clap of thunder.

There's a tingle between your legs and you squeeze your thighs together.  
Mr. Aizawa's grunts, and you want so desperately to take his hands place. You consider it; you consider sneaking in the door and straddling his lap and letting him do everything he could be thinking of. Your train of thought is pushed from the rails with a particularly long moan of your name. Even though he tries to dull it with your hoodie, you hear every chant of your name, and when cum spurts from his cock, your mouth waters for every drop.  
He tidies himself up, clears his throat and sets your hoodie aside. You step away from the door, heart thumping from sheer want. You pray he won't know you watched every second.  
You knock on the door, certain your cheeks are still red, but you know you can blame the cold, and Mr. Aizawa jumps a little.

“Sorry, Mr. Aizawa, I think I left my hoodie here,” his face is even and he glances around like he hadn't just had it to his nose while he fucked his fist.

“This one?”

“Yes, sorry!”

“No problem. Enjoy your weekend,” He focuses on the paperwork again, but you don't miss the way his eyes drop over your form.

You consider leaving something behind for a full weekend next time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading my work! For updates, giveaway info, and general thought process, join me!  
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/CalsLaundry  
> Tumblr: calslaundry.tumblr.com  
> Discord: CalsLaundry#9094  
> Pillowfort: https://www.pillowfort.io/CalsLaundry


	14. Breeding (Todoroki Enji)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> Talk of impregnation, (Enji being fuckin' dumb)

Every night this week, Enji has been insatiable, and you can't figure out why. He's just in the door and his hands are on your hips. His thick fingers dig bruises into your skin through your leggings, and his mouth is on the back of your neck.

“Please,” he grunts against the skin there. His cock is already hard and the desperation in his voice sends shivers through you. He turns you in his arms and, as if you weigh nothing, he lifts you. You wrap your legs around his thick waist as best you can and you cling to his shirt while he walks through the house to your shared bedroom. His affections are quiet, as if he's hiding from the world that the great Endeavor can be soft. He spills some mixture of praise and adoration, and with a kiss to your forehead as he places you on the bed, he drops the embellishments of language and simply says, “I love you”.

He doesn't say it often, and every time he does, the warmth that envelopes you goes beyond his hellfire. He casts your leggings aside but you know how much he loves the way his shirt hangs on you. His eyes drag over you when he pulls back and stands at his full height. His flames melt away and expose his strong jaw, his thick neck, and you know he never believes you, but his flames hide your favourite parts. You take the bottle of lube from the drawer and work yourself up as you watch him, already comfortable with two fingers pumping into your heat.  
He strips himself of his hero costume, not in any way that could be consider sexy, but the knowledge that you're the only person who sees him like this – flames off and skin bare – is sexier than anything you can think of. He leans over you, kisses you more softly than you expect of him, and you remove your own fingers to let his slip inside you. They're so much bigger and it takes your breath away. But you beg your mind to focus and you hold his wrist to pause him. With an excited hitch to his breath, he kneels between your knees, but you taise yourself to your elbows and press a hand to his chest and he looks at you, almost apologetic.

“Enji,”

“Have I hurt you, my love?” genuine concern creeps across his features and you smile.

“No, no, I just...have a question,” he holds your thigh and nods for you to continue, “not that I don't appreciate it and not that I'm not enjoying it, but this week you've been exceptionally...enthusiastic, I am just wondering why.”

“When you say “enthusiastic”, you mean...” he trails as if he's embarrassed.

“Enji, every night this week, you've come home hard and fucked me into the mattress, my hips have had an ache since Monday,” you laugh and he chuckles though it's another embarrassed sound.

“Honestly, my mind has been a little...” he trails again, and then he's silent.

You trail your foot up his chest and poke your toes at his chin to make him look at your face.

“Enji, after all this time, you know I won't judge you.”

He kisses your ankle and takes a breath.

“I had a dream the other night, about you. A...sex dream. I know I've cum inside you before but this dream was a little different, there was a sort of...I am not sure how to phrase it...and the dream has plagued me every working day, I want to bring it to life but I can't quite...find the thing it had...” he kisses your ankle again, and his massive hand strokes your calf as he searches for the words.

“Honey,” you watch his face closely, “do you have a breeding kink?”

He stills.

“I...is that what it is?”

“Might be,” you shrug then an idea strikes, “maybe we can...try something?”

Enji nods, but you don't explain. Instead, you press yourself forward, encouraging him to press into your hole finally.  
Your head falls back and you let out a sigh as he fills you. He thrusts a few times before he plants his hands at either side of your head and you lay down. Your hands cup his jaw and you kiss along his cheek to his lips. A particularly rough snap of his hips pulls a curse from you, and you squeeze around him to urge the same noises from him. It's a push and pull of power, of each of you trying to make the other fall apart first. Your unvoiced suggestion seems forgotten now, but Enji's breath comes in pants and your own mirror them with soft moans sprinkled in.

“Enj-fuck!-Enji,” you chant his name, and your orgasm threatens to spill through you any moment, but you beg it to wait, “Enji, please, I need you to cum inside me!”  
His brow is sweaty but he watches your face as your head falls back against the bed and you call his name with a string of swears.

“Breed me, Enji!”

His hips stop from sheer surprise, and you groan in frustration.

“Don't _stop_!”

He thrusts again, impaling you hard enough that you whine. Your orgasm has been delayed but it might be a blessing; you need to see that look on his face again.

“Enji, please, I need you to cum in me, you want that, right? You wanna breed me?”

He grunts and his forehead presses to yours. His hand cups the back of your head and you swear you can taste every moan he gives you.

“Tell me what you want, Enji, come on, baby,”

“I want to breed you, I want to impregnate you, I want to cum in you over and over and plug you-” he moans your name and his head drops and the change, though slight, presses him against your most sensitive spot and you all but squeal his name as you cum with pleads and praises falling from your lips.

“Impregnate me, Enji, do it, fuck me and plug me, breed me please,” he shoves himself inside you fully and prays your name over and over as you feel his cum fill you. He's breathless and you kiss his forehead – some small praise – and he pulls out with a moan. He studies your messy hole, almost pouting as his cum dribbles from you. But when you reach between your legs and try to push it back inside, his jaw drops and you swear you can hear his mind snap to silence.

“I think you're right,” his eyes are still on your fingers.

“Hmm?”

“I think I've got a breeding kink...” he seems unsure of what that could really mean, but it sends a small shock of pure lust through you, and you turn onto your stomach and raise your rear in the air.

“Then I guess you better keep going, big guy~” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading my work! For updates, giveaway info, and general thought process, join me!  
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/CalsLaundry  
> Tumblr: calslaundry.tumblr.com  
> Discord: CalsLaundry#9094  
> Pillowfort: https://www.pillowfort.io/CalsLaundry


	15. Car Sex (Yamada Hizashi)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> Student teacher dynamic(college student)
> 
> Continuation of day 12 - Glory Hole.

  
You slip out of the bathroom right before last call.   
The bartender gives you a small wave as you leave, and the cold air burns your lungs. Winter has hit hard, and there's a sting to the rain. You can scarcely hear a thing over it, but then a car pulls up and a familiar blonde waves you in.

“Oi! Get in, no need to walk home in this!”

The car is already warm and you give him a warm smile.

“Thanks, Mr. Yamada, I was kinda worried about walking home in this”

“I was a bit more worried about you walking home drunk in this,” he gives you a quick glance and you smile. These last few weeks, he's been suspicious, especially since your “little bird” comment.

“Not drinking, mr. Yamada, don't you worry,”

“Then what would a young thing like yourself be doing in such a place?” he doesn't seem pressed on a destination, you're sure he doesn't know where you live, but he's left the bar's parking lot.

“Socialising, I don't need to drink to be around my friends, Mr. Yamada. Besides, what were _you_ doing there?”

“About the same, I just didn't want to wait for Sho to drive me home,” he snorts, almost victoriously.

“Is that really all you were doing?”

“What else would I be doing, kiddo?”

He slows to stop at the red light, you turn a little in your seat and he watches you from the corner of his eye.

“I've heard great things about the last stall in the men's room,”

He swallows.

“Oh yeah? From who?”

His knuckles are white on the steering wheel when he takes off at the green.

“A little bird told me,”

He laughs; “always with the birds,”

“Well, I mean,” you bite your lip and resist touching him, “you like how little birds sound, don't you, Mr. Yamada?”

His jaw clenches but he smiles.

“I think there's one little bird I'll like the sound of more than others.”

The soft hum of the radio fills the lull in conversation. You don't fully recognise the road ahead, but you see the edge of town and there's a flicker of hope in you that Mr. Yamada is going to make you sing.

“Have you ever seen how the town looks from up here?”

His sharp change in topic catches you off guard and you are momentarily lost for words.

“N-no, I don't think so?”

“Then you're in for a treat~”

His tone teases some other thing but you can't place it.  
He pulls into an overlook and you can't deny the beauty in the way the town's sprawling lights mirror the stars. The engine switches off, and Mr. Yamada pushes his seat back as he unbuckles his seatbelt.  
You copy him and turn to your side to watch him. He plays with his hair a moment, then pulls it back over his shoulders and ties it in some messy bun.

“I'm going to cross some lines,” he looks at you, “but I feel they may already be smudged,”

“By now, Mr. Yamada, I think they're rubbed clean,” your voice is soft. 

“Call me Hizashi,” he grins, and there's such a cockiness to it that you can't help but shy away, “don't tell me you're getting shy _now_!”

He laughs but you shove his arm.

“I couldn't see you before! It was easier to hide the embarrassment!”

His laugh falls to silence.

“When did you figure it out?”

“Day one when you called my name. I had my suspicions but that gave it away. I mean, your following reaction gave you away too,” you chuckle.

“And you didn't mind me coming back?”

“Of course not, I mean,” you chew your lip and search for the words, “I like what I do there well enough, it's a thrill of its own, but when it's someone I know on the other side, when it's someone I already admire, knowing that I get to pleasure them is...wonderful. But knowing they're thinking about me without even knowing it's my mouth they're fucking is even better.”

His hand rests on your thigh and squeezes gently.

“I won't...ask you to do that here, I think I just wanted to confirm everything,”

Your heart wavers with disappointment.

“You settled in for the long haul, huh?”

“I really thought you'd be a bit more secretive, but since I've accounted for too much time,” he squeezes your thigh again and looks at you with that same cocky grin, “someone you already admire, hmm?”

You blush, but you're determined to wipe that grin from him.

“Well, yeah. I've spent the last year of lectures checking you out and to be honest, I thought you'd noticed,”

“I thought my lectures were really good...” he mutters, and you laugh. At the same time, you place a hand over his and you entwine your fingers.

“They are good, but they're made better by having something to look at while you're giving them,”

“You're flirty when you get going,”

“As if you're not?”

He laughs,

“You've got a point, I may have been smudging that line for a while,”

“Maybe, but I'm not complaining.”

“You know,” he looks over you with hungry eyes, “you've been so good to me, I wonder if I could return the favour.”

“I thought you 'weren't going to ask me to do anything here', huh?” you poke your tongue out in hopes of flustering him, but he leans across the space between you, almost closing it, leaving there barest inch between you, and he speaks with a dark tone;

“I won't ask you to suck my cock, but I'll ask you if I can finger that cute little hole until you call my name for the whole town to hear,”

Your breath hitches and his hand sneaks from your hold. He gives your thigh another quick squeeze before his hand slips to tease the inside of it, and a fingertip brushes against a sensitive spot that makes you shudder.

“I'll need a “yes” or a “no” before I go any further, little bird,” his tone is playful, but it sends shivers through you. You rest your head against the headrest and let your eyes flutter shut when those fingertips brush the same spot again, accidental or not, you don't know.

“Mr. Yamada-”

“Hizashi,”

“Hizashi, please,”

“'Please' what?”

“Please touch me, I can't take your teasing anymore!”

He laughs as he cups your sex in his palm and presses, even through your jeans, it makes you groan.  
He glances around, and then unbuttons your jeans.

“I've got a little somethin' in mind for you,”

“Anything, just keep touching me,”

“Jeans off then,”

You push the nerves back and your jeans off, and he pats his lap.

“Here?”

“Easier to touch you if you're on my lap, pretty bird, besides there's no one around,”

He's not wrong, and with some awk, you manage to get yourself onto his lap. He reclines the seat back a little, as if you're a show for him, and through your underwear, he presses a thumb to you.  
Your hips roll out of habit, you don't really want to admit that-

“How long's it been since someone touched you?”

His question ends your thought early, but you are embarrassed to even answer.

“It's been a while,”

“A while as in...?”

“Uh...long enough that I have to think about it,” you laugh nervously, but he presses a thumb to you again.

“I guess I better make it good then, huh?”

He pushes your underwear to the side and runs a finger through your juices with a satisfied noise.

“Soaking already, tell me,” he dips a finger into you, “what were you thinking about in that stall tonight?”

You push down on his finger and he adds a second one at the motion. But when you don't answer, he holds your hip.

“Answer me, birdy~”

“Y-you,”

“Me?” he pumps his fingers again, “what about me?”

“Your cock, the curve of it, the piercing on it, how it would feel inside me,” honest words tumble without warning, but his fingers keep the embarrassment at bay.

“You've been thinking about it inside you, huh? During lectures too?” he curls his fingers and you moan, “I bet you wanna be bent over that desk. Or maybe you considered giving me some other hole to play with through that stall.”

You cling to his jacket, at his mercy with every curl of his fingers. But they stop again.

“Maybe I can make those daydreams come true?”

His erection is close enough for you to feel and you don't want to seem too eager but you nod faster than you intended and he flashes you a grin.

“Hips up, pretty bird,”

It's not the ideal space, but he pushes his own jeans and underwear down until his cock is free. You know it well, but your mouth still waters.

“Time for that later,” he knows where your mind is. He presses a hand to you again, presses into your wetness and he wraps that same hand around his cock. His head falls back at the feeling, and you admire his neck as it does. You position yourself over him and lower slowly, savouring every inch with soft gasps.   
He lets out a string of curses himself but he only moans when you kiss his throat.

“Well aren't you brave,” he chuckles though it turns into a whine.

“Are you complaining?”

He grips your hips tight as his hips meet yours at last.

“Not at all, little bird,” he raises and lowers your hips slowly then raises them just enough that he can thrust into you more easily. Your face presses into his chest and you moan at his first thrust.

“Fuck, Hizashi...”

“Sounds good when you say it,” his pace picks up, and the sound of skin against skin is obscene, “let's see how it sounds when you cum for me.”

The slaps get louder, and in turn, so do you. You kiss his neck when you can, tempted to leave a mark but you know better. Your fingertips dig bruises into his shoulders, but it's when one hand slips into his hair that he lets out a truly filthy moan. You grab a fistful and he whines louder than before, and the closer you get to your own orgasm, the harder you pull. With a grunt, he turns his head, loosening your grip just a little, and he captures your lips as his thumb presses against you once more. You moan against his mouth and his tongue slips against yours, and with every caress of his thumb and his tongue, you edge closer and closer. You break the kiss to mumble against his lips;

“Zashi, Zashi, I'm so close!”

“I can tell, you're just about milking my cock, heh,” he grins at you, “don't you dare be quiet now though.”

He knows it works, he flicks his thumb over you again and again and suddenly a wave of pleasure bolts through you and you cry out his name loud enough that any car nearby would certainly hear.

“Fuck, that's it, I knew you'd sound good, better than I imagined,” he babbles out whatever comes to mind and you don't know how you know that means he's close. One arm wraps around your waist and the other around your shoulders. You pull him in for another kiss and you swallow every moan until he breaks it to moan your name against your lips. He spills inside you with a high pitched whine and another call of your name. It sounds much better when you can see the blush in his cheeks and the way he bites his lip when he cums.   
The windows are fogged and it feels cliché, but you slip back to your own seat and he holds your thigh again as he starts the car. The windows clear, slowly, and he pulls your hand to his lips to place a quick kiss on your knuckles.

“When these are cleared, I'll take you home,” another wicked grin, “up to you what happens there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading my work! For updates, giveaway info, and general thought process, join me!  
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/CalsLaundry  
> Tumblr: calslaundry.tumblr.com  
> Discord: CalsLaundry#9094  
> Pillowfort: https://www.pillowfort.io/CalsLaundry


	16. Wax Play (Todoroki Shoto)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> None!
> 
> Short chapter because it's a busy day!

Shoto's hands are warm on your hips. He's already balls deep in you and the way he brushes the sweetest spots inside you has you pleading against the bed sheets.

Your anniversary is going as well as you hoped; you came home from work to a candlelit bedroom and it wasn't long before Shoto had you bent over for him.

With every snap of his hips, you get louder, and you reach back to grab at his forearm, certain you dig crescents into the skin there.

He presses a kiss to your back but his hips slow.

“Angel,” you glance back at him as well as you can, “can I...try something?”

You nod – you know you can tell him if you need to stop.

“Forehead against the bed.”

You obey. The slow roll of his hips keeps you sated while he does...whatever he's doing back there.

“This will hurt a little,” you smile at his concern. He's been incredibly rough in the past, but he's still so soft and sweet before he is.

There's a small hot splash against your back, it stings a little for a moment, like a small hot slap on your shoulder blade. There's another small slap of heat on the other shoulder blade and you gasp.

“You like it?”

“Y-yeah,”

“It looks pretty on you,”

His hand presses between your shoulder blades and you flatten your shoulders to the bed while he holds your hips high as your body allows. There's a drop to the small of your back and the heat dribbles up your spine. The trails continue across the canvas of your back, some hot wax curls around your ribs, over your hips, and when it drizzles onto the back of your neck, it seeps around the sides of your throat like a necklace of heat.  
You hear the small thud – you assume as he puts the candle back in place – and his fingers are on your hips again. He pulls you back against him and you reach between your legs to push yourself over the edge with a call of his name.  
To your surprise, he pulls out just a moment later, but the sensation of an all too familiar splash of heat meets the base of your spine and you can't help the giggle that escapes you.

“Stay still a moment,” he fumbles for something and you hear the shutter sound of a camera.

“See how pretty you look like this,” with his help, you lean back on your ankles, back almost hitting his chest, and he holds his phone in front of you.

The droplets and rivers of red trail over your back like a map and his splash of cum at the bottom is like a special feature.

“Red was a good choice,”

“Red looks good on you,”

“Looks good on you too,” you ruffle his hair over your shoulder and he kisses the back of your neck, right above where you know the wax ends.

“It's going to take a while to clean up,” you giggle, anything to pull him into a shower with you.

“Worth the mess.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading my work! For updates, giveaway info, and general thought process, join me!  
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/CalsLaundry  
> Tumblr: calslaundry.tumblr.com  
> Discord: CalsLaundry#9094  
> Pillowfort: https://www.pillowfort.io/CalsLaundry


	17. Exophilia (Dragon!Kirishima Eijirou)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> A/B/O dynamics, knotting, talk of mates, size difference
> 
> I went off on this one, whoops

Kirishima seems bigger these last few days.

Since childhood, you've just accepted that your dragon friend would always be much bigger than you, but certain spells in your adulthood have made him seem bigger for no reason.  
Tonight, he's simply walking ahead of you as you trail through the woods. Late night walks are nothing new for you two, it's not like anyone is going to try to jump you when Kiri is there. He's taller and wider than any human you've seen, with tree trunk arms, a thick waist, and his curved horns gave him even more height than his frame already held. When the moonlight slivers through the trees, his scales – red as his long hair and covering his back, shoulders, hips, and legs – shimmer and glint. His legs are the most inhuman _human_ part of him (besides a mouth full of sharp teeth); they fold back like a dogs, and unlike his arms and chest, they are completely covered in scales. They end in thick lizard feet, and talons on his hands and feet bring every sharp feature of him together. Right now, his wings are folded in and his tail sweeps the path behind him. He listens for any noise that isn't you, and for all your confidence in his abilities, he has warned you on plenty of occasions not to assume safety.

One man couldn't take him down, but a good enough number and he'd become a myth.

But the clearing come into view and you know you're too deep in the woods for anyone but yourselves for this hour of the night. The grass here tickles your bare feet, but you rush ahead anyway. The formation in the middle is like a child's drawing of a house brought to life in stones and rocks. It offers shelter, unmovable protection, and on clear nights, a place to watch the stars.  
Tonight, it is a place for star gazers.  
You know you can't climb up alone, but you've tried every night you've been here.  
Kiri laughs somewhere behind you.

“You'll never learn!” he's behind you in an instant. He towers over you, you're certain your head barely comes above his naval, but he's always so careful with you. He lifts you onto the top of the stone house and you lay back. The heat of the day is still radiating from the rock, and with the warm breeze and the dragon boy beside you, you don't fear any surprise cold.

He lays beside and the sound of the breeze stirring the trees is only accompanied by soft breaths.

“I'll miss this one day,” his words hit your gut with immense dread.

“What do you mean?”

He stirs and you raise yourself so an outstretched wing becomes your mattress.

“Well one day, I'll have to go find a mate. Every day I don't have one, my parents get a little more antsy for grand kids, I know this town has _some_ dragon blood, but it's less now than it's ever been. I know there are towns out there made of just us, and I think that's where they want me. Somewhere that I can settle with someone.”

The thought of him gone rattles pain through your ribcage. It's selfish to beg him to stay just for you, you know that. So you don't. You roll closer to him and put your arm across his waist as best you can.

“I know you'll make a great mate for someone,” your voice is small and you hear the puff in his chest in response to such a compliment.

“I hope so,” his smirk comes and goes in a split second.

“What's wrong?”

“Well...how do you make sure you're a good mate for someone?” worry flows beneath his words, and you can't help but smile.

“Are you really that worried?”

“Yeah! What if I don't do enough for them? What if I do too much?! What if I can't do... _things_ right!”

“Eiji,” he looks at you with soft eyes full of genuine fear, “if you're half as good to them as you are to me, then you'll be the perfect mate.”

His face relaxes and he puts his head back and watches the sky with his arm as a pillow.

“Doesn't mean I'll do the other thing right...” he murmurs and you can't help but laugh.

“I'm sure instinct will help plenty!”

“And what if it doesn't and I'm the worst they've ever been with and they tell all the other dragons I'm no good...” he looks so genuinely nervous.

“Eiji, honey, it'll come with practice,”

“I should have been practicing?!”

He looks even more worried than before, but your face drops to pure confusion.

“Have you...not been?”

“No!”

“You've never...?”

“No!”

“I thought that you had been...”

“No!” his hand covers his face, “I was...sort of hoping the first time would be with my mate. I know it's dumb, but I just wanted it to be more about the connection than the like...instinctual need or whatever...”

“That's not dumb, it's sweet, and I'm sure the right mate will appreciate that.”

Conversation dies and together you watch the twinkling world above you.

“I'll miss you too though,” your words are a whisper against his waist, you don't want to betray just how much you would miss him nor how much your heart aches at the thought of him somewhere else. Or with someone else.

“Maybe I'll find a mate here! Then I can still see you!” his optimism is sweet, but that ache of jealousy, of possessiveness still trickles through you.

“Yeah,” you don't press it, you roll back to watch the sky again.

A few beats pass before he speaks again.

“Should I really have been practicing?”

You can't stop the laughter that erupts from you and he laughs too, but rolls to face you.

“I'm serious! All I've done is kiss someone!”

“Eiji, you'll be fine,” your words are broken from laughter, “and I don't mean this in a _mean_ way, but who would you practice with? The other dragons here are paired off already.”

He thinks a moment, his eyes on your cheek while you watch the sky.

“I could practice with you.”

You gasp so hard you choke a little, and spluttering, you sit up.

“I'm a human!”

“Yeah?” his tail wags lazily underneath him, “I understand it might be bigger than human anatomy, but it wouldn't be weird for a dragon and a human to do something like that.”

You chew your lip; you've thought about it, of course. But he hasn't, you don't think.

Could you follow through when you know it means something different for both of you?

He's watching, waiting for a response.

“Is it _that_ much different to a human?”

He shrugs.

“Not like I know either way,” you laugh at his comment but you nod, you push the nerves down and you whisper agreement.

“Okay then, practice with me.”

You lay back down beside him, and you think the words haven't quite sunk in yet.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, do your worst!”

“That's not encouraging for practice...”

You laugh and he mirrors it, and then his nose presses to yours and the line, the one you've wished to cross, melts away to nothing.

Kissing him is easy.

He keeps his teeth well in check, even when he pulls you closer, even when the first signs of arousal sneak their way from both of you. He discards your clothes carefully, but you can tell the need for care comes second.  
He rolls back and puts you on his waist with no effort, the way his nails dig into worries you that you'll bleed but it's a small price to pay to finally see him like this. But it's something entirely different to see him watch you like this.  
He rubs at your hips, touches you everywhere he can reach , traces unknown shapes and words in some new language onto your skin. His fingertips are calloused, not scaled like the backs of his hands but rough enough to make you shiver.

“Am I hurting you?” he whispers.

“No, it's...nice,” he pulls you in for another kiss, this time only one before he trails kisses down your neck. There's a flash of teeth in each one that threatens to slit your skin but he never does; there's such care, such delicate handling of the spider web of a line between pain and pleasure, and he knows exactly how to keep you on it.  
Your body begs for him, and you know he can _smell_ it. You catch him when he sniffs your neck, your chest, your ribs.

“Can I have just one taste?”

He asks as if it's some forbidden fruit.

You simply nod.

He lays back and pulls your hips again until they're above his face. It feels filthy, like you're breaking rules you've never agreed to, but his tongue slips against you and he moans and the rules are forgotten.  
His tongue, you learn, is long, much much longer than any humans, and he controls it far better than a human could theirs. The tip of it swirls and teases and tickles everywhere before it dips inside you, snakes up further than it should but in a way that strokes over a particularly sensitive spot. You moan then cover your mouth to hide it. His tongue leaves you and he kisses your sex with a chuckle.

“I think it's good if you moan, you don't have to hide it.”

“It's embarrassing and we're in public!”

“It's the woods, who else would be here at this hour?”

You nibble your lip in thought but you're not given long to retort. He handles you again, pushes you down until you straddle his waist and you _feel_ his arousal.  
He swallows, nervously you assume, but you put a hand to his cheek when your other hand slips behind you. You stroke your thumb over his bottom lip and he nods. You shimmy back until your backside rests on his thighs and you try to hide your reaction.

He's _big._

It's different to a human's; longer, thicker, there are ridges and bumps along the underside, the tip is more pointed, and the base has a fat bulge, far thicker than the rest of him.  
Your hand isn't big enough to go around him, but your touch makes him hiss all the same. You work him slowly, the tip spills precum and you pray between it and your own, it'll make things easier. You lick a stripe up the length of it, enjoying the ridges and bumps against your tongue, and you give the tip a soft kiss that makes him whine.

“This is,” he breaks his sentence with another moan when you take him in your mouth, as difficult as it is, “this is so good.”

His hips push up against you, but he's simply too big to get any further into your mouth.

“You feel so good, I could...so easily finish from just this,” he laughs quietly and moans when your mouth slips from him.

“Can I...?” he lets it trail and you nod. He moves you again, now your hole hovers above his cock, and that nervousness crosses his face again. You capture his lips in a kiss, your hand brace you on his shoulders and when the kiss breaks, you nod.

“It's okay, Eiji, I can take it,”

“I don't think you can take my knot,” he smiles and it seems like an apology, “the bulged part at the base, it links us with our mates when we breed, I'm not sure a human could take it.”

If you were braver, you'd call it a challenge, but his size without it is already intimidating.

“It sounds...intimate to be linked with someone like that,” you don't know why you keep talking as you line him up with your entrance, but it seems to relax him.

“Right? I can't wait to-” he cuts off into a gasp and his head falls back as you sink onto him. It's just a little more than the tip and the stretch already steals the breath from you. You sink a little lower, slowly, slow enough that your knees shake, but he holds your waist. He's resisting the urge to push you onto him, the effort is clear on his face, but he just grunts and swears and for that last inch, he gasps and watches your face. His knot is all that stops you pushing down further.  
You take a moment to remember how to breathe, eyes closed.  
When you open them again, he's staring.

“You okay?”

“You took all of it,” he looks almost dazed at the idea.

“You really thought I couldn't?”

You don't let him answer; instead you raise your hips and drop them. It earns you a grunt and you giggle. It feels almost too easy to tease him like this, but this is supposed to be about him. Teasing can wait. (Until next time, you hope).  
You set a slow pace, the stretch doesn't hurt but you're well aware of it. But you're so slick around him, it blends with the pleasure. With your hands on his chest, you pick up the pace. His grip digs into your waist, his jaw is tight, and you can't read his face with his teeth so ground together.

“Eiji,” he looks at you, “how is it?”

He opens his mouth to respond but a whine slips out and he laughs.

“I knew that would happen,” his words are peppered with that same whine, “you feel so good, so perfect, I'm just...struggling not to let the more animal side take over,” he chuckles and it melts into a moan.  
You stop as he sinks completely into you again.

“Do you want it to?”

“I don't want to hurt you...”

“That's not what I asked.”

He swallows again.

“I want to, I....really want to but I don't want to hurt you,”

“You won't, I know you won't,” his eyes meet yours and he knows you mean it.

“Okay.”

His arms wrap around you, one around your waist and one around your shoulders, and that one cradles your head as he pushes you onto your back. Your legs are forced wider apart by the sheer size of his body, and his knees keep them there.  
You feebly reach for his neck, but the size of him becomes more apparent than it's ever been and it makes you want him even more. He tries to keep your pace as his hips move, but like this, you can feel every bump on his cock inside you. Your nails dig into him, and that spurs him on. His pace picks up until you're certain you'd be pushed along the rock if his arms weren't holding you in place. Each thrust pulls you closer and closer to climax, but it's when he kisses the curve where your shoulder and neck meet that you call his name and it spreads through in a wave of pure pleasure and warmth.  
You turn your head to steal a kiss from him, and that's when his hips stutter. He gets erratic and eager, and a growl slips from him. The growl springs something in you, and suddenly, you're aware of another orgasm creeping up inside you. You cling to him, breathless when you whine his name, and as another orgasm threatens, you push your hips down to meet his, desperate for more, and the scaly section below his naval brushes just the right way and it forces you to squeeze around him with another moan his name. He growls again into your neck as he thrusts at the same time, and you _plead_ for him as your second climax hits, but he groans loud and another impulsive push of your own hips at the same time as him forces a new fullness that forces another squeeze. That pushes him over the edge and his cum fills you at the same time his teeth clamp onto your neck. You squeal but not from the pain, and when he finally stills, another growl rumbles through him.  
He presses a soft kiss to your neck in the same spot he bit, but he twitches and freezes.

“Eiji?”

“I...was wrong,”

“About what?” You stir to look up at his face when he pulls back, and you look between your bodies to where you're still connected.

“It does fit...”

You realise why he's still. Why you can't pull yourself from him. 

“Oh my Gods, you're not hurt, are you?!” panic floods him but you touch his cheek and he relaxes.

“I'm fine, I...don't think you really needed practice because that was...wow,” he beams at your compliment, but you bite back a smile, “Eiji, why did you bite me?”

“I-instinct...”

“And why is _that_ a dragon instinct?”

“So other dragons know not to touch our-” his face pales and then reddens.

You think you know what he left out.

“Mates?”

He nods, nervous again.

“I am so sorry, I should have asked properly...”

You wonder if that's regret in his voice.

“But if you want to come with me tomorrow, I would like to...be a little more traditional.”

“With what?”

“I know the mark is on you already, I hadn't really intended to knot you but it felt...right,”

You struggle to follow, at least in part because he moves to sit on his backside with you still in his lap.

“Perhaps I don't need to leave town to find a mate...”

The realisation finally hits and he laughs.

“That's...if you'll have me?”

Shyness trickles into his voice, but it's not for fear of your response, it's something closer to admittance.

“Eiji,” you press a kiss to his jaw, “that's all I've ever wanted.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading my work! For updates, giveaway info, and general thought process, join me!  
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/CalsLaundry  
> Tumblr: calslaundry.tumblr.com  
> Discord: CalsLaundry#9094  
> Pillowfort: https://www.pillowfort.io/CalsLaundry


	18. Somnophilia (Aizawa Shouta)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> Questionable consent

You know it's well past midnight and you know he wouldn't want you waiting up, but you don't want to fall asleep without seeing him.

The world is falling apart a little more every day, tearing at the seams in ways no one has ever expected, and to know your Shouta is out there through it all puts an ache in your heart. You miss him desperately through these busy times, and even as sleep sneaks into your mind, you can't deny how much you miss him on top of you, inside of you, but no toy makes you feel the way he does. The orgasm that lazily tingled through you earlier in the evening was _fine_ , it took the edge off, but you can't help the pout when you realise just how much you miss clinging to Shouta when you whine his name.

Sleep coaxes you in and you hope you dream about him at least.

*

Your dream swirls with vague images and sentences, but more importantly, you dream of him. His touch, soft as a whisper, between your legs, his lips near your ear, his breath hitching between words. You can feel every bit of it, and then his cock, already hard and hot, presses to your hole and-

You wake up, groggy and lost for a moment but you can still feel everything from your dream. You shift and try to turn, but there's something in the way, something your sleepy mind can't understand. But hips slap against yours and you yelp and familiar long black hair drapes over your shoulder.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you, kitten,” Shouta sounds tired, but the rumble of it makes you groan, “I just couldn't wait.”

With you awake, he holds you tighter; he's curled against your back, one of his hands under your thigh to make room for himself, his other arm under your head. His pace picks up, and you're aware of how close you are already.

 _How long was he doing this before I woke up??  
_ “I came in and you had your leg over the duvet, already spread out and soaking, how could I resist?” his fingertips dig into your hips and he growls against your ear, “and those delicious noises you made, fuck, kitten, I wish you could have heard.”

He lets go of whatever sliver of control he was keeping and he pushes you until you roll onto your belly, rear already raised for him. He slots into you again and the sound of skin slapping makes you giggle into the pillow, but he growls, already close to his climax.

“Missed you so much,” he murmurs, and when he reaches around you to coax your own orgasm out, you moan his name in a way that makes him whine. He's only seconds behind your orgasm and it feels much too soon to hear him call your name as he fills you.

You tangle with him, finally nose to nose, and give him the softest kiss.

“Goodnight, Shouta,”

“Goodnight, kitten.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading my work! For updates, giveaway info, and general thought process, join me!  
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/CalsLaundry  
> Tumblr: calslaundry.tumblr.com  
> Discord: CalsLaundry#9094  
> Pillowfort: https://www.pillowfort.io/CalsLaundry


	19. Threesome (Alastor and Bambi)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning:  
> Blood mentions, hunting mention
> 
> Bambi belongs to my wonderful wife AlastorsBambi. Check out her refs for Bambi on her Twitter!   
> Note: Bambi can give me the strap any day.

Some distant scream is cut short.

You glance at the window from your comfortable spot; the fire is on, your legs are thrown over the side of the couch and your back is against the cushions. Your book is forgotten when the scream comes.  
Your little cabin is by the lake, deep in the woods where only lost hunters wander, and once they stumble upon your home, they don't make it back to tell the tale. It's not unusual to hear a scream in the woods. What is unusual is the few that follow.  
You sit up on your elbows and frown into the darkness like that will provide you with some kind of answer. You know answers will come, but the noises keep your interest on the inky spaces between the trees.  
They'd be here soon, you don't need to wonder too long. You wonder if you should get properly dressed before they do get back; you're only covered by an oversized t-shirt and nothing else.  
And just like that, all you had to do is think of the Devil and two bundle through the door.   
Alastor's taller than Bambi, but their power is absolutely matched when they stand here. Alastor's soft grey with shocks of red hair and ears seems so contrasted with Bambi's mix of soft and royal purple fur. Every time you look at her, you lose count of the heart markings on her. It was only the other day you learned about the two on her back.  
The blood doesn't show much on their red outfits, but their skin and fur is splattered with it. Alastor's smile is the same one he always wears; big and pointy and excited, but blood outlines where they slot together. The look in his eyes is what makes you realise something isn't _quite_ right.  
Bambi's expression is feral. More so than you've ever seen it. In your time with the two of them, there hasn't been a moment where you wondered what they would do to you, but right now, a thrill of excitement shoots through you.

“Good evening, dear,” Alastor's singsong voice meets you first. He bends over the couch and gives your forehead a soft kiss.

“Good evening, lovely, good hunt?”

Bambi's fingertips trace a soft pattern up your bare thigh. Her eyes flicker between their regular red iris to a sea of red with blue equiliser bars. Tingles of fear spread through your back – Bambi's feral eyes are rarely good news for those who see them.

“Now, now, sweetheart, you look a little nervous,” she watches your face with a grin that would send the Devil himself running. The adrenaline of the hunt is still seeping from her.

“Be nice to our pet, darling,” Alastor's hand – rougher and bigger than Bambi's – plays along your other thigh, “yes, dear, our hunt was fruitful, but I fear it might have gotten us...a little _too_ riled up.”

Bambi leans on the back of the couch as her fingers tease higher and higher. Her red waves tease you, and from here, you see the spots where her purple fur is dark and sticky with blood.

“I think our _pet_ is just as riled up, Al, look at the cute little expressions,” her fingers cup your sex and your back arches.

“Bamb! Since when...I...What?!”

“Shh, shh, sweetheart, it's fine,” your hips press towards her hand as she speaks, “you know by now we wouldn't do anything we don't want to.”

“Yes, dear,” Alastor's fingers press against your hole as Bambi's swirl over your clit, “you've been so good for us, it was on your word we relied to find such a feast for ourselves tonight.”

“And what a feast you led us to, _pet_ ,” Bambi says the word as if it tastes like the blood on her muzzle and you shiver.

“Let us reward you, hmm?” Alastor's fingers slip inside you and your head falls back.

“Good pets get rewarded for begging, right?” Bambi's fingers leave you and you whine, but she leaves your line of sight, “so beg, pretty pet,” you can hear the grin on her lips.

“Bambi, _please,_ ” Alastor's tongue presses against you as his fingers move, the blood on his cheeks smears along your thighs, and the blood on his free hand paints his handprint on your hip.

“'Please' what, pet? Come on, I know you're not fuckin' stupid,” she sounds smug but she has every right to.

“Please anything, kiss me, touch me, sit on my face, anything, Bambi!”

Alastor pauses and glances at her.

“Now there's an idea, darling.”

“Damn right.”

Two clicks and your demons are naked, though you're not given time to admire them.  
Alastor's knees spread your legs and the tip of his cock pokes against you already, the sight is new and gorgeous and you commit what you can of it to memory before Bambi's thighs are at either side of your head and a cute white patch of heart-shaped fur presses to your lips.

“Cute,” you murmur before giving the fur a soft kiss.

“Aren't you sweet?” she pats your head, “now get to work.”

She presses against you at the same moment Alastor pushes the head of his cock into you, and you swallow your moans to focus on her.  
She's a gorgeous demon, one you shouldn't trust as much as you do, but you know even a second of laziness in your work and she'll have herself and Alastor off of and out of you.  
You work your tongue slowly, savouring each sound from her, and Alastor's slow work between your legs is a blessing for it.

“Darling, I never thought I'd see anyone pull the same sounds from your lips that I do,” you hear the soft noise of a kiss (you assume he kisses the hearts on her back that he loves so much), “should I be getting _jealous_ of our little pet?” the venomous jealousy in his voice is performative, but it makes you squeeze around him and he laughs.

“And you love that, don't you, little one? You love seeing the response you get from two demons who should kill you for being so bold with us,” he pushes into you, buries himself to the hilt.

Your arms come around Bambi's thighs and cling to them as you lick a stripe that makes her mewl. Your victorious smirk isn't seen by either demon, but she taps your head playfully.

“You're not done yet, don't get cocky.”

She grinds her hips down against you, and Alastor finally sets his long slow pace.  
You moan against her when he fills you, and she grunts.

“Fuck, Al, don't hold back, those moans feel _good_ ,”

“Of course, my dear,” another hard thrust and you and Bambi moan together, “but I so wish I could see the reactions our sweet thing is causing.”

Bambi stands abruptly and you whine at the loss of her heat against you.

“Oh shush, I'm just making things a little easier,” she licks your bottom lip, tastes herself before she sets her thighs at either side of your face again, this time facing Alastor.

“Better, baby?”

“Infinitely, my love,”

Alastor and Bambi share a kiss that you can only hear, but she moans against his lips when you resume your work.

“Fuck, right there!”

Your tongue works against her, your moans push her further and further, and Alastor's thrusts only get harsher the more noise Bambi makes.  
Bambi's thighs squeeze hard and Alastor's pace stutters and your body tenses and you're the first to fall apart. Your cries are muffled by Bambi, but the combination of your sounds and tongue push her into a mangled cry of your name. That's enough to coax Alastor forward, though he's the quietest of the three of you when he cums deep inside you.  
Bambi stands on shaking knees and Alastor pulls back from you and the sudden cold catches you.  
Alastor cleans himself up quickly, but Bambi takes a moment, and you admire the parts of her you usually don't get to.

“Take a picture, kiddo, it'll last longer,”

“I mean, I'd like one, can I do that?”

She laughs and turns back to you. She leans down (though as she does you catch sight of the nipple piercings you _wish_ you'd played with earlier) and kisses your nose.

“No pictures, but I'm sure we can give you plenty to remember.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading my work! For updates, giveaway info, and general thought process, join me!  
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/CalsLaundry  
> Tumblr: calslaundry.tumblr.com  
> Discord: CalsLaundry#9094  
> Pillowfort: https://www.pillowfort.io/CalsLaundry


	20. Phone Sex (Yamada Hizashi)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:   
> None!

Falling asleep without Hizashi this past week has...well, it has fuckin' sucked.  
You admire your boyfriend; he's out there living his dreams, he's doing incredibly work on stage, and you are just _so damn proud_ of him.  
But tours are hard.  
He's often countries away, in a different time zone so surrounded by people that he can barely send a “good morning” and “goodnight” text. It's hard, but you knew what you signed up for when you two first got together, and every moment apart is worth the pure happiness you share with him when he's home.  
You wish you could drop off to sleep, but the world is harsh and you feel like you've been staring at the ceiling for hours.  
You phone buzzes; it's just after midnight for you, but it's about 3am for Hizashi. You expect it to be a quick message about how the show went and a goodnight, but instead;

> “You up?”

You snort at how like a teenager he seems.

> “Yeah, sort of.”

You let your phone fall to the side of you but it buzzes almost immediately, this time with a call.

From Hizashi.

“Hello?”

“Hey, pretty thing!”

You feel your face light up at the sound of him.

“Hey, rockstar, I wasn't expecting to hear from you tonight!”

“I know, I know it's late, but God, I just missed your voice too much tonight, birdie,”

You can hear the ache in his voice.

“I miss you, 'Zashi, but I'm still proud of you! I'm so happy you're out there having such a great time and making so many people happy!”

He laughs.

“Yeah, but some nights, I wish I was back home makin' you happy,”

You frown in confusion.

“You do make me happy, even from far away.”

“Not what I mean, birdie~” his voice drops and the implication makes you blush.

“Oh yeah? So you're just lookin' to get your rocks off, huh, pretty boy?” You smile as you say it; you're not at all angry and he knows it.

“Well knowing that my pretty little thing is at home in bed all alone, gets me kinda hot under the collar, y'know? Especially after seeing that _picture_ ,” his voice drops into a groan, “I'm not sayin' I'd cancel the tour for 30 seconds inside you, but like...fuck, babe,”

You blush at such a compliment and the blatant arousal in his voice stirs you.

“Oh yeah? What if I'd sent a video?”

“I'd be on top of ya already,” he laughs but there's a breathless edge to it.

“Oh yeah? You wanna tell you what you'd be doing on top of me, 'Zashi?” you sneak your hand into the bedside table and grab lube and the closest thing you have to him right now. It's served you well over this recent tour, even if he only caught sight of it in that picture.

“Watching the way you look when you're begging for my cock,”

You whimper at the words.

“You love hearing that, huh? Love hearing how much I love how much _you_ love my cock,”

You both fall silent and replay the sentence a few times in your heads.

“Okay, that was not a good sentence, but c'mon, babe, I'm _distracted,”_

You giggle with him, but that heat comes back, and you let a dribble of lube coat the head of the dildo.

“How distracted? Y'tryna get me to beg you for a fuck over the phone, honey?”

He groans; he loves this push and pull.

“You know I'd do anything to hear you say that, birdie, _anything_ ,”

“Then beg, Hizashi,”

He groans and you hear the soft “pap” of him touching himself.

“For such a sweet little birdie, you really got me wrapped, babe, please beg for me, yeah? Let me hear how much you miss me,”

You push the tip in slowly and grunt, “'Zashi, God, I wish you were here.”

Little by little, it fills you up.

“I wish this was _you_ , I know it's sort of close, I mean, it's the same size but it's not _you_ , it doesn't have your warmth. Or your enthusiasm,” you snort a laugh.

“Lemme hear you when it fills you completely, baby, that's the sound I miss the most,” his breathing is laboured and there's no way you could deny him when his soft groans are pleading enough.  
He goes dead silent as you whine then you're breathless as it fills you, and you gasp his name at the fullness.

“ _Fuck_ , yes, birdie, that's it, sing for me,” there's a slick noise on the other side of the phone.

“You fuckin' your toy for me, 'Zashi?”

“Yeah, not as good as you, not as tight, not as hot, not as _needy_ ,” he chuckles at the noise you make in response, “s'not gonna beg for me either.”

For a few moments, you enjoy his breath, laced with moans and soft whispers of your name.  
You whine his name shamelessly, but as you pound yourself harder for him, it gets louder and he mirrors it.

“Fuck yeah, I wanna see that pretty face beggin' for me,” an idea strikes, and you prop your phone on your locker, pray for the angle, and hit the “video” button. You see yourself first; red cheeked, a sheen of sweat on your face, and shirt pulled up above your bellybutton as your other hand works.  
Hizashi's camera clicks to life, and you're graced with your sweaty, shirtless boyfriend on his back with his gold hair splayed on the pillow and down his chest.

“You look _so good_ , 'Zashi, God,” seeing him pushes you closer to the edge, now that you can see his hips thrusting upwards into his own toy.

“Easier to imagine ya when I can see you squeal, baby,”

“Says you, pretty boy, look how eager you are,”

Your head falls back against the pillow and you struggle to keep your eyes on him.

“Don't look away when you cum, birdie, I wanna see~” he whines and you give him a breathless chuckle.

“Promise, you too,”

“Yeah,”

It feels so pornographic, but you adore the way his eyes scan every part of you, the way his mouth drops when he moans, the tension in his arm.

“Gonna cum, fuck, 'Zashi!” you moan, body tense, and you meet his eyes on camera.

“Gonna cum too, fuck, baby, wanna cum in you, wanna ruin that cute little hole, wanna make a mess of it-fuck!” he moans your name and at the same moment, your orgasm gushes through you, cum splatters across his toned stomach.  
You fall back on the bed, breathless again, and he matches you.

“Bit of a waste that it landed all over me,”

“We'll make up for it when you're home,”

“I can't wait, babe, next time, you're comin' with us, I hate being away from you for this long,” he pouts and it genuinely aches your heart.

“I promise I'll come with you next time, I hate being apart, 'Zashi, fuckin' sucks but I really never want to hold you back.”

“Then I guess next one, I'm bringing ya, and we can enjoy these hotel rooms properly.”

“Until you get back though, we should _definitely_ do this again sometime.”

“Absolutely. Maybe send a video though for when you're sleeping though, I miss that cute voice calling my name.

You snuggle onto your side to face him, "I love you, 'Zashi,"

"I love you too, little birdie, so damn much, now, how was your day?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading my work! For updates, giveaway info, and general thought process, join me!  
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/CalsLaundry  
> Tumblr: calslaundry.tumblr.com  
> Discord: CalsLaundry#9094  
> Pillowfort: https://www.pillowfort.io/CalsLaundry


	21. Priest (Aizawa Shouta)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> Blasphemy, religious talk and routine, spanking.
> 
> Apologies for any lapses in the more proper parts of the process; while I was raised Catholic, I cannot remember the fine details.

“ _Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned...”_

You whisper the words to yourself, you're terrified of forgetting them. After all these years, trying again feels...strange. You don't even know what compels you to try to reconnect with your upbringing, but trying is better than not trying, right?  
You settle in the confession box and draw the curtain. Were they always that long?  
It smells...dusty. This whole church does. For as beautiful as it is, it's empty, and it feels like it's home only to ghosts of the devoted.

“Yes?”

You jump at the voice from the other side of the screen, and through the grate, you make out the vague shape of a person.

“F-forgive me...” _Crap...what were they?_

The priest is quiet.

“Take your time.”

“Forgive me, Father, f-for I have sinned...”

“There we go. To what do you wish to confess?”

Now he sounds bored. His voice is deep, soothing, the kind you're sure sounds divine when he- _stop that, you're in a church!_

“I've neglected my faith in recent years, so I suppose it might be a long list,” you choke a humourless laugh, but he chuckles.

“Let's keep it simple then,” you can hear the smile playing on his lips, and Lord, you want to know if those lips are as pretty as they sound, “what would you say your most often recurring sin is?”

The tip of your tongue swipes over your top lip, but he speaks again; “and don't lie. I don't want to give you penance for being too shy to be honest.”

“Lust, Father.”

“Perhaps I shouldn't have assumed you shy.”

“Well, you said to be honest.”

“And you listened well.”

The silence shouldn't feel this tense.

“Thank you, Father.”

“And a lover of praise,” he chuckles again.

“Isn't everyone?”

“Should they be?” That catches you. “If someone praises you and you believe it, do you threaten to fall into the sin of Pride?”

There's a shame in it, like you're a child caught with your hand in the cookie jar. Or worse, caught somewhere you had no idea you weren't supposed to be. The rumble of his laugh slips through the grate again.

“I'm teasing, I apologise. Company has been somewhat rare today, and the sight of a new devotee is always welcome.”

“I hope that's where it goes. It's rather...intimidating to return after so many years.”

“And to begin with confessing one of the deadliest sins, you truly took on a task.”

There's an edge in his voice; something dark, sinister almost, as if he knows he's humiliating you.

“I'm sorry, but I don't really...know what part comes next,”

“Here, you apologise with “this is all I can remember. I am sorry for this and all of my sins”,”

He waits, and you struggle through the embarrassment. It's hot in your stomach.

“This is all I can remember. I am sorry for this and all of my sins,”

“Good,” that hint of praise tinkles underneath his voice and you take a breath. “no need to be nervous. Penance isn't all that intimidating. However,” you cast a glance through the grate. “you don't know your prayers all that well.”

“Uh, no, Father,” shame, again.

“Then this time, an alternative penance will suffice.”

He moves beyond the grate and then...silence.  
You hear a few steps, but nothing more. Until your curtain moves and the already small space is invaded by the priest.  
You aren't sure you're...allowed to look at him the way you do, but you truly can't help it. His black hair is bunned but you're certain it falls well below his shoulders. He's scruffy, for want of a better word, and the scar under his eye is a story you wish he would tell you.

“Now,” he settles the curtain, “while I cannot ask you to pray for me, worship has many forms.”

When he sets his hand on your head, you watch the way the short sleeves of his back shirt squeeze around his strong arms. His other hand is across his front, a bible against the bottom of his sternum.  
You can only nod.

“Good,” he sets his bible aside, “stand for me, dear.”

You do, and he twirls his index finger in the air. _Turn?_

“How much do you remember of your religious studies?” he asks as you turn away from him.

“Not as much as I should.”

“I trust you know what self-flagellation is?”

You nod, then offer a “yes, Father” when he doesn't speak.

“While it may have been taken too far by some, it was once penance, though more for the clergy. And while I cannot give you this as penance, perhaps something of the sort will suffice, hmm?”

“Father, are you hiding a flogger in your bible?” you laugh, breathless and quiet, and he laughs with you.

“Half of the punishment is not knowing, little lamb,” a hand between your shoulder blades encourages you to lean forward, and your hands land on the small stool.

Your mind flickers to other times you've been in this position, and you hate that your thighs squeeze together in response. But there's a brush of something against your rear before he pauses.

“You don't know prayers, but you understand rosary beads, don't you?” the edge in his voice is sharper now.

“I...I can't say I do, Father, I'm sorry,”

“You will be forgiven,” he leans over you, the heat of him spreads through your shoulder where his meets yours, “we use them to count prayers and lead us, though today, they will serve a slightly different purpose. See these?” the set of rosary beads – pearls connected with some bright silver, and a thick cross dangling from them – drape across his hand, but one decade of them sits in the center. “Each of these is a Hail Mary, but you will simply count them with me. After each prayer, we move on to the next, until we get to the end, then our prayer changes. But we will just do this decade; consider this me leading your penance.”

Your elbows rest on the stool now with your rear is in the air, and you're careful as can be with the beads. But you wonder if this is the correct position to hear his prayers.

“Father,” you don't look at him, but you know he looks at you, “shouldn't I be kneeling?”

He snorts a small laugh.

“Usually, yes. But this time, we will make an exception. Now, count, my lamb.”

There's a dull clap against your ass and you let out a soft hum.

“One,”

It wasn't his hand.  
He's muttering under his breath.  
Another belt.

“Two.”

Each strike gets harder, your fingers fumble over the beads, but at seven, you whimper.

“S-seven.”

“You're doing wonderfully, you're almost done.”

You nod, and mutter a quiet “thank you, Father.”

The next is harder than before and you whimper “Eight”. your cheek falls against the stool and you look at the spot he'd placed his bible.

Except...

_Smack._

“Nine.”

It's not there.  
The last cracks you just the right way and you stifle a moan.

“Ten.”

“Stand, lamb,” his voice is quiet and you rise on shaky legs, “turn.”

You do, head down, cheeks red, and hands clasping the beads in front of your bellybutton. You're like a child.

“The next part,” your eyes flick to his lips as he speaks, “is worship, _but_ ” he sets the bible aside again and takes the beads from where you've clasped them, and wraps them around your hands.

“Worship is a delicate process, a careful one, and so often, it is about what you accept than what you do. We of the clergy, we are vessels of a sort. We are not God, nor do we believe ourselves to be anything close to Him, but we are to spread his message, to accept those who wish for forgiveness, and to be witness to those who worship and praise.”

His hand presses to your shoulder.

“ _Now_ you can kneel,” you kneel, fully, properly, not on your heels, but with your back straight, as if he's your pew. You don't take your eyes off of his, not even as his zipper comes undone, not even as he pushes his trousers and underwear down below his deliciously thick cock, not even when he cups your cheek.

“Worship.”

You open your mouth to him, eyes still locked when you suck the tip of him, never straying as you lick stripes up the length of him, unmoving when you worship his cock in every way you can with your hands contained.

“Such a loving lamb,” he cups your cheek again as he thrusts into your mouth, “do you think you can be cleansed of such sin?”

With your mouth full, you can only nod.

“Your confessed sin, your _lust_ ,” you shiver as he says it, “I wonder who you've given your body to in sin. I wonder how many of them have deserved it, hmm? I wonder how many earned it? I wonder how many indulged for selfish need rather than in celebration of the Lord's creation?”

You wonder if he's thinking out loud, but then his cock leaves your mouth with a pop.

“Rise,” once more on shaky knees, you stand, and he holds your waist as he turns. He sits on the stool that was your elbows rest and his hands sneak soft touches. With a glance, he pulls you forward until your crotch is before his face and he leans close and breathes deeply.

“A beautiful scent, a gift,” he unbuttons your jeans and pushes them down until they're on the floor and he beckons you to step out of them. It's awkward without your hands but you manage, and now you stand with your lower half naked for him. He eyes your sex, hunger in his eyes.

“You'll forgive me for not stealing a taste, but I'm afraid it would be too indulgent. Cleansing your soul and the parts of you dirtied by the blasphemous is a duty, of course.”

He pats his lap and you straddle him without a second thought. Your put your arms over his head, your bead clasped hands resting just behind his bun. He guides you onto himself, slots into you until your breath catches from fullness. He controls your pace, rises and drops you lazily with his eyes on yours as if this really is just duty.

“I am grateful to cleanse such a lovely lamb,”

A hard thrust.

“Such a gift to the world,”

Another thrust.

“The closest thing to perfection since the angels themselves,”

You bury your head in his shoulder, chanting your own thanks to him, but there's something else about it, something taut in your stomach.  
To touch his hair wouldn't be a sin, would it?   
To repay him his every kindness wouldn't be a sin?  
To gift him something in which he cannot indulge wouldn't be a sin?  
You stand abruptly and he hisses when he slips from you. You step back, careful as you unravel the beads from your wrists.

“Father, you've been so kind, so forgiving, and I wish to return that kindness.”

They trail down your wrists until they catch and hang from a finger. You lean forward, one hand on his thigh, and the other between your legs. He watches, not quite suspicious, but uncertain. They're small, barely noticeable really, when you push them into your wetness. The middle decade first. Then the two at either side, then the first and last. Until only the cross hangs from you with its final few prayers.  
His breath is strained.  
By the cross, you tug them from you and groan at the tickle of them. And once more, they dangle from your finger. Strings of your wetness connect some of the pearls and that same hunger, dare you say, _Greed_ , flickers in his eyes again.  
You sit on his lap again, wordlessly sink onto him with a small moan and with a hand burying into his hair. As he thrusts, slow and deep, you bring the beads to his mouth and decade by decade, push them over his lips.  
He groans and his hips lose their patience. He suckles every drop of you from them, his hands squeeze your waist, and at last, as that final wave of pleasure reaches its peak, he pulls you forward, kisses you deeply, beads tangling between your tongues, and he chants your name like a hymn as his cum fills you.  
It's quiet as he helps you cover up again, and with his bible in hand and those beads now wrapped around his own hand, he kisses your temple.

“You've done well, lamb. I look forward to seeing you at Mass.”

*

And you are there. A few rows back, and as he comes out to the alter, you see those same beads wrapped around his hand, and he catches your eye with a look that you know will send you right back to confession.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading my work! For updates, giveaway info, and general thought process, join me!  
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/CalsLaundry  
> Tumblr: calslaundry.tumblr.com  
> Discord: CalsLaundry#9094  
> Pillowfort: https://www.pillowfort.io/CalsLaundry


	22. Blood (Alastor)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> Blood, blood in all the wrong places, murder, dead body, body hiding, being an accessory to murder, suggestion of kidnapping, Stockholm Syndrome if you squint.

On most nights, from your room – Alastor's spare one – you'll hear the far off click of a door, sometimes the thump of a something like a dropped sack of potatoes, and you'll hear him shuffle past the door on his way to his own room.  
You're not...happy here, but you've accepted it. You know you're safe; he feeds you, keeps you warm, gave you this little room that is perfectly cosy. There's more security than you had in your old life, and this feels normal now.  
But tonight, you hear that click, a thump, but as his footsteps come closer to the door, they stop, and three quiet knocks echo through your moonlit room.

“Come in,” your voice is hoarse from silence, and the door creaks softly as it opens.

“I hope I didn't wake you, my dear.”

“Not at all, is everything alright?”

He looks...nervous.

“I...might require some assistance.”

You swing your legs out of the bed and pad across the room. You're hardly dressed for any kind of work in nothing but what you have always assumed is an old shirt of Alastor's, but the uncertainty on his face spurs you forward.  
Alastor moves aside to let you walk through to the kitchen and he follows, but before you quite reach the kitchen, his hand on your elbow stops you.

“There's quite a mess, my dear. I don't want to alarm you, but I was injured in my activity, and I cannot clean it up myself,” you tense as he speaks.

“Are you okay?”

“I will be. I will fix myself as you clean.”

You simply nod, but in just a few steps you realise he was not understating the mess. There's a body crumpled by the door, stained with blood from uncountable wounds, but the pool of red underneath them doesn't seem to grow.  
You'll have to move the body first, and Alastor knows it.

“Basement,” he croaks, and with the adrenaline out of his system, he staggers into a chair to tend to himself. He'll call if he needs your help. You hook your arms under the armpits and drag the body. It's strange that they're already cold. It's a struggle, but once it reaches the top of the basement stairs, you let it roll down with a kick. They're definitely not alive anymore, but no one else needs to know that. There's a trail through the house, like traintracks of blood where you dragged them, and you don't know why your brain just...knows.  
You go down to the basement yourself, a strange tingle of fear in the base of your spine that they'll stand and fight back for your mistreatment. In the darkness, you can see the lump of them, and you strip them of their clothes. Alastor can decide what he'll do with the body.  
Aside from the man's shirt, the clothes are relatively blood free, and you use his outer cardigan to clear the bloody tracks. You drape the shirt on the pool by the door, watch it soak in and turn it over. The other layers he had serve the same, until the majority of the blood is soaked and only small pools remain. Your own shirt slides from your shoulders, leaving you naked as you gather the body's clothes. The fireplace still crackles nearby, and you toss the man's clothes and your own shirt in piece by piece until the fire roars and the room is heated by death and secrecy.  
When you turn, you see Alastor inspecting where the pool was and nervous butterflies grow in your belly.

“I-I'm going to clean the last of it now. Is your injury covered?”

He looks at you, silent as his eyes fall over you.  
You glance down; it was maybe foolish to burn your shirt, but it was just as covered as the rest!  
But you see where he stares – your thighs, belly, and arms are all smeared with blood. He beckons you closer with one finger and your body seems to move of its own free will. He drops to his knees and presses a hand into the remaining blood before he stands again. Like this, his height is obvious, he's intimidating. And the small blossom of panic blooms when he presses his blood covered hand to your neck. But he doesn't squeeze in any noticeable way.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs the word before he drops to his knees again. This time, his hand all but plays in the small pools. He looks up at you – permission? – and presses that blood soaked hand to your sex.

“So beautiful,” he rubs at your sex as he chants the words over and over, and you buck against his hand at the sensation. His touch leaves you and you shiver, but he gives you a smile without any explanation. His hand wanders again in the blood before it pushes against you again, and a finger hooks against your hole. You moan at the intrusion, but the blood makes it easier, makes it slicker as he adds a second finger too quickly. The thrills shoot through your body and you press yourself onto his hand without a second thought, but Alastor has never been one to hand over power, especially not after the high of a kill.  
His free arm scoops your knees until you fall on your backside, his fingers leave you, and instead grab your ankles. He pulls you towards him like you weigh nothing, and before you reach him he turns you onto your stomach. Your cheek presses against the dull smears of blood, your chest into the puddles that are left, and he turns you again with such sheer, full blown lust in his eyes that you almost shrink away. His hands roam over you, spread and smear the blood over your chest and thighs and finally, your cheeks. He seems mindless, like he can't control the patterns he draws. He pokes your nose as reality returns to him and you smile up at him. You're certain you look a mess, but he seems to love it. His finger, still blood covered, plays over your mouth, and some animal instinct takes over you; you part your lips and take the digit in your mouth. It's coppery, not the most pleasant, but the way he looks at you makes it worth every drop. He pulls the finger from you, his free hand messes with his trousers, and the hand marked with your spit grips your jaw, careful but tight, and he kisses you hard. You don't know if you should, but you dare to touch him. You let your fingers play with his collar, tease his neckline, and in the same breath, he teases your hole with himself.

“Please,” it's a broken plea against your lips and you nod and he doesn't hesitate for another second.

His pace is immediately rough, his hands grip your waist, the blood dries on your skin, and every time he kisses you, you taste that copper again.

“You're like my own fantasy come to life,” your hands slip from his shoulders and try to grip the floor for purchase with no luck through the last of the pools, “a grotesque angel of my own making.”

He chuckles against you but your fingers twist through the blood and that stained hand slips between your bodies.  
You keep your eyes on his until his follow your fingers, and he watches you touch yourself and pull yourself closer to orgasm with still more blood smearing your sex.

“D-dear,” he gasps out, “I can't last much longer with you like this.”

“Don't, Alastor,” a soft wave of pleasure flows through you, your body tightens, and your back arches, “you like me like this, right?”

He nods, he doesn't trust his voice not to break.

“Then show me just how much.”

He loses himself in you, you're not sure if the sounds are the slap of skin to blood or skin to skin, but each thrust pushes you closer and closer and your free hand grips his shoulder hard enough to break the skin as you call his name and he calls your in return as he spills himself inside you.  
Together, you catch your breath in heaving pants. The look he gives you is tender, adoring, and he leans in for another kiss. The woods are kind enough that you won't be disturbed, maybe the cleaning can wait a little longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading my work! For updates, giveaway info, and general thought process, join me!  
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/CalsLaundry  
> Tumblr: calslaundry.tumblr.com  
> Discord: CalsLaundry#9094  
> Pillowfort: https://www.pillowfort.io/CalsLaundry


	23. Oviposition (Todoroki Enji, Takami Keigo)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> None!
> 
> Short one! Even though I love Hawks, I haven't actually...gotten to him in the anime yet, so writing him was daunting. Maybe I'll continue this one day?

Keigo sits in the corner of the room.  
His face lacks his usual cockiness, but his eyes are more focused than you've ever seen them.  
Enji is behind you, your legs are spread wide and resting over his knees so he can keep them spread.

“Y'ready?” Enji's voice is low and rumbles against your back.

You nod.

“Eyes on Keigo.”

You don't need to be told; Keigo is moments from drooling and it's nothing short of enchanting.  
The first small silicone egg presses against your hole. It's soaked in lube and your lips part already.  
It's a slow push before it's spreads you open and your hole swallows it, though Enji's finger tickles the rim of your hole too.  
Keigo gasps as he watches it, and Enji chuckles.

“Look at how he watches you, our little masterpiece,”

A second presses to you.

“Ready?”

“I'll tell you when I have to stop,” you're impatient, already eager to watch more of Keigo's reactions.

“Eager little thing,”

The second slips in as easily as the first.  
Then another.  
And another.  
You rest your head back against Enji's chest. It's such a _full_ feeling, they're heavy.  
Enji's hand rests on your stomach, as if he's trying to feel them through it. A push and you might lose an egg.

“Enji,” Keigo is hoarse.

“Hmm?” his hand is still on your belly but his eyes flick to Keigo.

“Please can I...try?”

“What do you think, little one? Can you fit another one?”

You nod, cheeks hot. Keigo leans over you, lips against yours and he holds the egg to your hole, much like Enji did.

“Y'ready?”

“Yeah,” it's barely a breath.

When it slips inside you, you moan, shameless. Enji groans at the sound, and Keigo holds his breath.  
Keigo's hand rests on the other side of your belly, and leans down to kiss the space between his and Enji's hands.

“Y'wanna lay for us, birdie?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading my work! For updates, giveaway info, and general thought process, join me!  
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/CalsLaundry  
> Tumblr: calslaundry.tumblr.com  
> Discord: CalsLaundry#9094  
> Pillowfort: https://www.pillowfort.io/CalsLaundry


	24. Finger Sucking (Todoroki Enji)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> None!
> 
> Another short one; life is tough, kids!

Another night in bed means another night of Enji in his office downstairs, tapping at his computer, filing paperwork, doing everything but getting rest.  
And to be in this bed alone, this massive plush bed far too big for just you, it feels even more lonely when you know he’s so close.  
You’ve asked him before to come to bed, but you know work is important; he’s an important man, he runs the lives of countless employees, and you try to be understanding. But it’s not just about the loneliness anymore. Enji always looks so tired and so frustrated.  
He needs a break, badly. And for all your loyalty and support, you know when your husband needs to be pushed to rest.  
You pad down the hall, barefoot and dressed only in one of Enji’s t-shirts. It hangs to your thighs and it smells like him and it’s been a saving grace in recent husbandless nights.  
The clack of his keyboard floats through the hall, and there, in the dimly lit office, your husband sits with a straight back and his computer screen lighting up his face. He looks emotionally drained, more so than you’ve ever seen him, but not tired. That determined, work driven look you fell in love with is still etched in his face.

“Enji?” he glances up at the door, and his eyes light up at the sight of you.

“Is everything okay, my love? Did I wake you?”

You cross the room and lean against his desk, right beside his chair.

“Yeah, I just thought...it’s getting late, sweetheart, you’ve gotta be exhausted,” he smiles at your concern.

“I know, just a busy week. Even now, it’s small e-mails and waiting for responses. It’s...exhausting but it is necessary,”

“Can I keep you company for a while?”

“You’re not tired?”

“I wanna wait until you’re in bed with me.”

Enji, despite his size, has the softest smile, and it’s full of love. He would never send you away, he knows you’re too stubborn, instead, he pats his knee. You sit across his knees with your head against his shoulder. He has always made you feel small(only physically) but on his lap, you feel tiny. His arm supports your back with his hand on the mouse. The clicks of his work are comforting, and you run your hand over his chest. He sighs in comfort at the feeling and kisses your forehead. He has to be uncomfortable being in a suit so long, regardless of how good it looks on him. You play with his tie until you strip it from him and he watches you with a hint of suspicion.

“You’re surely not still comfortable with a shirt and tie on at this hour, are you, Enji?”

You unbutton his collar and just a few buttons, you don’t intend to strip him here, only to make him feel a little more comfortable.  
You smooth down the disrupted fabric and glance a nipple in the process. He grunts, but doesn’t say a word.

_Just how much can I get away with..?_

He types out another e-mail, then clicks to another and another, and you can't help but let your hand roam over his broad chest while your other hand rests on your lap.

“You're getting brave, my love,” his tone is teasing and he gives your forehead a soft kiss.

“I just want to enjoy my darling husband, is that so bad?” you purr the words and he chuckles.

“Not at all.”

As he clicks through his e-mails, his hand covers yours, follows your touch but holds your wrist when your fingers tease too much. You turn your hand in his grip but you catch his smile; he's as much of a tease as you are.   
But you're not done with him.  
You gently pull his hand towards your cheek, and he cups it. His thumb brushes over your lips, his eyes still on his screen.  
You part your lips and tease the tip of his thumb with your tongue. He doesn't look down.  
Slowly, you slip his thumb into your mouth, he swallows in response.  
Your heart speeds up and your mind races.  
You suck with a soft swirl of your tongue over the tip and his breath shudders.

“Hon, what are you doing?”

You pull his thumb from your mouth with a lewd “pop”.

“Just...toying, babe, want me to stop?”

He licks his lips and looks down at you with lust blown pupils.

“N-no, it's just...different.”

His grip slips from your wrist and you hold his much larger hand in two of yours with your thumbs pressed to the middle.  
You take his index finger in your mouth with the same softness, though it reaches further into your mouth than his thumb. It teases a sweet fluttery noises from you and he immediately hardens at the sounds. You swap to his middle finger and you suck it with more enthusiasm, in a way that makes you picture his cock in your throat. You moan around the digit, and the arm behind you wraps around you. It's awkward but he turns you in his lap until you're forced to straddle his thighs. Without a word, he holds your jaw and presses his index and middle finger over your lips. As they slip in further, you hold his hand with your thumbs in the middle again and Enji watches your eyes as your lips meet the webbing of his fingers. You suckle them again, and that's his breaking point.  
He lifts you onto the desk and unbuttons and shoves his trousers down until his hard cock springs free and he shoves your shirt up to the lowest of your ribs.

“I'll do the rest of it tomorrow,”

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading my work! For updates, giveaway info, and general thought process, join me!  
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/CalsLaundry  
> Tumblr: calslaundry.tumblr.com  
> Discord: CalsLaundry#9094  
> Pillowfort: https://www.pillowfort.io/CalsLaundry


	25. Punishment (Todoroki Endeavor)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> Questionable consent, boss/employee antics.

  
Your mood is far from good.  
You step in the door, soaked from rain, exhausted from the commute, and already, your boss's voice spits through your desk phone.

“Yes, sir, Mr. Todoroki,” you hold back a sigh, and you go about your morning duties with the tension in your shoulders thickening, and your mind as far from here as it can be.   
You sit beside him in his meetings, taking notes, mind as focused as you can make it. It's not easy. The first meeting ends and in the interval, Mr. Todoroki requests a coffee.

“Yes, sir,” your voice is quiet and passionless, and you pray he won't notice.

You trail down to the first floor to the coffee dock. You know his order well enough by now, and the barista knows you well enough to know you're suffering.

“Rough day?”

“Don't even get me started. If I can make it through without a breakdown, it'll be a success,” you laugh with him, and he slides two coffees to you.

“Uh, I-”

“On me, you need a win,” he winks and you smile with a soft heat in your cheeks as you take the two of them.

“Thanks, see you later!”

“Hope so.”

Okay, maybe today is looking up a little.  
You sit beside Mr. Todoroki and give him a small smile.

“You're going to need that,” he gestures at your cup, “This next meeting is going to be...difficult.”

But his eyes cast over your cup again and you stare at it too, wondering what has him so intrigued.  
There's a phone number on it and your stomach wobbles.

 _Cute_.

But he huffs a noise and the partners slip into the room and his focus switches.  
Through the meeting, he stares ahead, his words are snipped, even more than usual, but you keep up with him as well as you can.  
Vague snide remarks under the breath of some disgusting old man are the opposite of the win you hoped for, but Mr. Todoroki doesn't hear a word of the way the man speaks about you. The meeting room clears, and he stretches as he leaves.

“I'll be back in a few minutes, can you get this place in order?”

You nod with a tight jaw.

_This isn't even my job._

But the water glasses are cleared and new ones set out with a fresh jug in the middle before he returns. You're already back in your seat and he hums his approval. He throws some comment out about how well it went and you nod, but then he comments kind words about the man who had muttered cruel words about you, and you sigh in frustration.  
Bad move.

“Stand up.”

You stiffen, pure fear in your veins.

“Up. Now.”

You obey.

“I was going to let you wait, but since you're toeing that line today,” he toys with your trousers until they fall and pushes the middle of your back until your face is against the desk, “I think your punishment can start now.”

You try to argue, or even follow what's happening, but he doesn't say a word as he slips something into your hole. You squirm but he ends it with a quick slap to your ass.

“Do you want to be seen like this?”

You shake your head, your cheeks burn from embarrassment.

“Then stay still so I can finish,” the thing in you isn't uncomfortable but you're aware of it, but your train of thought ends as he redresses you and pulls you back by the waist. You sit back in the same chair, shame and confusion rattle through you, but you can't help asking;

“Punishment?”

“Yes.”

“For what?”

“You-”

He quiets as the door opens and the next clients file through it.  
He greets them, but you notice his hand in his pocket as he sits down again.

“Now, Mr. Nezu, you've been interested in one of our programmes...”

You jot the notes as best you can, still battling the embarrassment of your boss man-handling you like that. Not that you didn't enjoy it, but you never expected him to. You've only seen yourself as his assistant, but now-  
You shuffle in your seat at a strange sensation between your legs. You readjust yourself; perhaps you sat wrong and pressed something against yourself.  
But the intensity of the sensation grows, and your cheeks grow pink with it.

_Did my boss put a vibrator in me?_

“Did you get that last part?” he mutters to you as the others speak amongst themselves.

“Y-yeah. Mr. Todoroki, may I be excused?”

“No chance,” he leans down, feigning reaching for a pen that has fallen and whispers against your ear, “behave yourself.”

You try.

You really do.

But the sensation spends the meeting fluctuating and your guard doesn't fall.   
But Mr. Todoroki is not known for his kindness.  
The buzz ramps up and your thighs squeeze together and you hold your breath to stifle any sound. Under the desk, you grab his knee; a silent plea to stop or slow down or _something_ , but he has no interest in your suffering. His hand grips your thigh, gently, teasingly so, and slips higher and higher until he cups your sex and you bite your cheek to stay quiet.  
At the same moment his hand leaves you, the vibration dies completely.

“We'll go ahead with it. Thank you for your time, Enji,” the man stands and shakes Mr. Todoroki's hand before he escorts him to the door. Together, they share words and small plans are made, but you gather his notes and pens and pray he offers some mercy.

You nod as you pass him and raise the paperwork to signal where you'll be. You walk towards his office, well aware of his eyes on you down the corridor, even as he speaks with his associates.

“Oh, hey!”

You look up as you reach the door.

The barista.

“So, listen, I know you work for Mr. Todoroki so I know you were busy, but uh, I just wanted to be sure it wasn't weird to give you my number like that.”

You nibble your lip.  
That cup is still in the meeting room.

“I uh, I'm not sure-”the vibration returns, full force without warning, and you swallow.

“Is there a problem?”

Mr. Todoroki steps up beside you.

“N-no, sir, I was just having a small chat with your assistant,” the barista is nervous, and you are sure he thinks you mirror the nervousness of being caught slacking.

If only it were that simple.

“Hm. Well, we have work to do, good day,” Mr. Todoroki opens the door for you and you slip in with only a nod to the barista. The door shuts behind you and you hear the click of the lock.

“I wonder how wet you are after all of that,” he mutters the words as he passes you and sits behind his desk, “are you just going to stand there? I do need that paperwork back. And I think I have something of yours to check on.”

You cross the room quicker than you want to admit. You set the paperwork down, but there's a small switch in the vibrations.

_How are they still getting stronger?!_

You lean forward with your hands planted on the desk and let out a quiet mewl.

“Poor thing,” his hand drifts up the back of your thigh, “have you had enough?”

You nod furiously against his desk, close to sobbing. The vibrations aren't quite enough to make you cum, but you're frustratingly close.

“Too bad,” he pushes your bottoms down again and you're exposed to him.

“How cute, I can see your hold clenching desperately around it. It's a fun toy, isn't it? But given your misbehaviours, I think we need just a tiny bit more punishment before you're free of it.”

He runs his hand across your rear but before you can ask him what he's doing or _why_ he's doing it, it comes down hard on your right cheek. You groan against the desk, but he slaps you again and again and again until you lose count and tears stream over your cheeks. With a final slap, he turns off the vibration, but the toy doesn't leave you. He pulls you onto his lap with your trousers still around your knees, and you cling to him like an upset child.

“Now, the next time you want to sigh at my words, what will you do?”

“Keep quiet, s-sir,” you hiccup the words through your tears.

“And the next time someone tries to give you their number?”

“I'll refuse it outright, sir,”

“Good, you're so good for me, little one, you've learned so well,” you nod against his chest and he kisses your hair. You should be ashamed of how your boss is treating you, but it all falls away while you enjoy the praise.

“As much as I would love to reward you for taking your punishment so well, I cannot, certainly not here, but that little toy works from quite a distance,” he helps you stand, “when you get home, it'll come on from time to time. You can ignore it if you want,” he dips a finger between your legs and you can hear how wet you are for him, “though I doubt you will.”

He redresses you and kisses your forehead.

“Cum as much as you want, petal, you've earned it. But keep your lessons in mind,” he raises a brow and for a moment, his eyes are nothing short of feral, “wouldn't want to have to repeat your punishment with no reward for taking it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading my work! For updates, giveaway info, and general thought process, join me!  
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/CalsLaundry  
> Tumblr: calslaundry.tumblr.com  
> Discord: CalsLaundry#9094  
> Pillowfort: https://www.pillowfort.io/CalsLaundry


	26. Scent (Kirishima Eijiro & Bakugou Katsuki)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> Armpit and sweat stuff, is a little gross.

You're lounging on the couch with your legs swinging over the side when the door opens and shuts and Kirishima's excited whoop makes you jump.

“I WIN!”

“He can't hear you, Kiri.”

“Not the point, you know I won!”

A moment later, the door opens and shuts again, and Bakugou slinks in.

“I W-”

“I heard you, shitty hair. And you can't win when there's no challenge,” you snort and fall back on the couch.

You'd moved in with the two of them almost a year ago now, and it is never boring. The two are competitive always, but their friendship is some of the strongest you've seen, and getting to be part of it has been nothing short of magical. Even now it feels like something from a movie.

You meet two gorgeous guys and move in together. Chaos ensues.

And they _are_ gorgeous. Bakugou is shorter, with thick arms and a tapered waist you'd dare to call pretty. His blonde spiky mess of hair is shaved at the sides, though now, parts are plastered to his forehead with sweat.  
Kirishima is...could you say opposite?  
He's big and wide everywhere, the definition of chunky. But he's got the friendly face of a sweet excitably puppy, and his ponytailed red hair may as well be a wagging tail.  
Bakugou rounds the couch and sits just above your head. Kiri stands beside the couch and stares down.

“You're gonna make me move, aren't you?” you eye him suspiciously.

Kiri stays quiet, but pulls you by the arms until your head is on Bakugou's lap. He circles the couch and you raise your legs for him to sit and let them fall onto his lap.

“What are we gonna do for dinner?” you ask the ceiling but Kiri replies.

“I'll cook!”

“You're gonna get pizza, aren't you?” Bakugou responds, eyes fixed on his phone.

“It's a good dinner choice!”

“I agree, plus,” you raise your head to look at Kirishima, “and I say this with love, it's safer if you're cooking.”

He barks a laugh and Bakugou joins in, but Kiri rises halfway, turns himself and suddenly he's between your legs.

“Mean!” His hands catch your waist and he glances at Bakugou who rolls his eyes but pulls your hands over your head.

“Wait- no!”

But the tickling starts anyway. You struggle against Bakugou's grip through your breathless laughter, squirming and kicking until Kirishima is laughing too hard to keep going. His hair falls from its tie and tickles your face. The tie itself falls onto the floor, and he leans down, inches from your face as he reaches for it.  
That's when his scent hits you and your mind goes blank.  
You've been around him after the gym before, but this is different, he's never been this close after it. He leans back on his ankles as he ties his hair back into a messy bun, the smell of his own natural smell and his sweat are stuck in your nose, your smile has dropped for a new curious expression, and your cheeks are hot.

“You good?”

“uh, yeah, yeah, just catching my breath,” you laugh dryly, but Bakugou's eyes narrow as Kiri shrugs and ventures to the kitchen.

“Liar,”

You look up at him and where his hands still hold yours.

“What?”

“You're not catching your breath,” he looks over his shoulder and whispers, “do you _like_ him?”

“What, no! You two are my friends!”

“Then what is it? And don't lie.”

“I'm not lying!”

“Oh yeah, then let's see,” he stands and takes the spot Kirishima had been in, but he pins your hands in his again.

Bakugou leans in close, and you swear you try not to but the smallest sliver of his scent hits your nose and you can't stop yourself from sniffing and your body gives Bakugou the same reaction it gave Kirishima.

“Oh,” his face twists from confusion to understanding and a smirk breaks out, “you're gross,”

Your cheeks heat from embarrassment, but Bakugou leans in closer.

“Better, huh?” his nose grazes your jaw and you barely keep in a whimper, “y'know you're not so bad yourself, but I'm _really_ enjoying how embarrassed you are.”

His grin is wicked and he sits back on his ankles, his hands now resting just above the waistband of your sweatpants.

“Oi, Kiri!”

“Huh?”

“C'mere a sec.”

Kiri appears beside Bakugou and studies your expression before looking at his best friend.

“What's....what's happening?”

Bakugou beckons him closer and whispers. Kiri's eyes flick to you and his tongue darts over his lips. He walks around the couch, and Bakugou takes your hands and pulls you closer. He drops you suddenly, but Kiri's chest is at the back of your head.  
He wraps an arm around your shoulders. His skin is just a little bit sticky. You turn your head but your nose presses to his bicep and that scent of his sweat and deodorant and natural scent hit you again and your cheeks flush. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Bakugou peel his shirt from his chest.

“You can stop us if you want,” Kirishima stands as Bakugou speaks. He tosses the shirt at your face and you're hit with his smell; something sweeter than Kiri's spiced musk. It has your focus, you barely feel Bakugou slipping your sweats down before he stands to peel his own from himself.

“I...uh...” you shake your head. Your words fail you, the situation is so unexpected but so _arousing._

Kirishima has disappeared, but Bakugou's lips on your inner thigh make you forget that pretty quickly. He reaches up and grabs his shirt. It's tight in his grip but still right beside you. Close enough to smell...

“Bet you smell real good too,” he presses his face to your sex and takes a deep breath followed by a shuddering exhale, “ _fuck_ , you do.”

His tongue pokes over his lips and he shoves the shirt against your nose and mouth at the same time. You moan and his scent fills you. You don't know what you're enjoying more, but his tongue teases your hole shamelessly and you grunt his name against his shirt.

“You _really_ wanted this just from the smell, huh? Gross,” he smiles against your sex and it feels so filthy, but then Kiri appears beside him again and you blush as his eyes fall over you with sheer lust. He drops a bottle of lube and a condom into Bakugou's waiting hands.

“You can still tell us to stop,” Bakugou's face turns serious.

“I...I don't wanna stop,” you hide your face at the admission.

“But at _any_ point,” Kirishima interjects as he touches your cheek, “you wanna stop, you just say so and we stop, okay?”

You nod.

“Or like, slap Kiri's thigh,” Bakugou's voice has that edge back, “you've seen him in those grey sweats, you know he's hung.”

Kirishima chuckles, blushing with you but Bakugou distracts you both when two of his lubed fingers slip into your hole and you groan. Kirishima shoves his own sweats down – that beautiful grey set – and steps out of them. He plants a knee against your underarm and his other foot stays on the ground.  
Bakugou's right; Kiri _is_ hung.  
(Not that you haven't looked.)  
You push yourself up as best you can, and lick a stripe up his already mostly hard cock.  
You think perhaps you should be embarrassed when you press your face against the base of him, right above his balls, but that alluring scent of him is impossible to resist there. You squeeze around Bakugou's fingers at the scent alone. He strips his shirt away and it lands somewhere above your head. You let your head fall back against the couch and the tip of Kiri presses to your lips. You open your mouth and stick your tongue out just a little and he swears under his breath as he pushes forward. He takes his time, well aware of his size, but Bakugou pipes up from behind him; “don't be afraid to be a little mean, Kiri!”

Kiri grabs his shirt and holds it against your nose as he pushes into your mouth and you crumble into a long moan. He hits the back of your throat and moves the shirt for a moment, but in the haze of sheer arousal, you reach for it yourself and hold it to your nose. Then he snaps. He thrusts into your mouth, slowly at first, but then he pulls the shirt from over your eyes and the glazed look of lust spurs him on.  
Bakugou's fingers slip from you but his cock presses against you instead and you moan around Kiri.

“Shoulda swapped with you, bet there are some cute expressions,” Bakugou mumbles against Kiri's shoulder as he slips deeper and deeper until he bottoms out.

“ _So_ cute, better than you thought,” Kiri's hips keep moving, and Bakugou matches his pace. The pleasure is close to overwhelming, you can't help the way you moan around Kiri, his shirt is forgotten in favour of focusing on his cock and he can't take it. His hips stutter and he pulls out just as the first drop of his cum hits your tongue. The rest splatters across your face and he whines your name.  
Kiri gets off of you and kneels beside the couch. He kisses your forehead, then your lips, and he groans at the taste of himself on them.  
But Bakugou isn't done with you.  
He leans in close, forearm propping himself up in the same spot Kiri's knee had been, and he licks a drop of Kiri's cum from your cheek.

“Not bad, bet mine's better,” Bakugou smirks at Kiri who takes the challenge with a big grin.

“You're on!”

Bakugou nips at your bottom lip as if to catch your attention, “promise you'll get a taste next time.”

Kiri's hand sneaks between you and Bakugou and massages your sex slowly. Bakugou's free hand grabs for his shirt and he shoves it against your face again. He leans down by your ear as he does.

“You gonna cum on my cock, yeah?” his whispers tickle and your moan of a response is muffled in his shirt, “can't believe it just took sweat to get you this slutty, we shoulda tried it sooner.”

His breath catches and yours copies it, he tosses the shirt aside and kisses you hard, but pulls back with a laugh.

“I can smell both of us on you, s'fuckin' good,” he moans the last word, and Kiri catches your lips in another kiss. You wrap an arm around him and play with his hair.

“N-not your turn,”

“Quiet, Katsuki,” Kiri's mouth is against yours but his eyes slip to Bakugou as he speaks, “focus.”

Kirishima's tone makes you squeeze around Bakugou and his fingers touch you _just right_ and your orgasm is on a razors edge when Kirishima leans forward and your nose presses against his shoulder and you can smell _him,_ not just his shirt, him proper and that's what pulls your orgasm from you. You moan some jumble of his name and pull his hair and when Bakugou bites your neck, you call his, and he groans yours against your neck.  
You catch your breath for real this time, and Bakugou kisses the mark he left.

“Knew y'were lying,” he chuckles.

Kiri stares at you, and dips his head down and against your clothed armpit and you try to shrink away but he sniffs.

Then stills.

“Yeah, I get it now.”

“Right? Smells real fuckin' good,” Bakugou breathes deep against your neck.

"I still get a taste though, right?" 

*

Showers are taken, dinner arrives, and you lounge on the couch between them, same as always, as if they hadn't fucked you here just a little while ago. Small things have changed; Kiri's arm is across the back of the couch and your legs are over one of Bakugou's thighs.

“I was thinking,” Bakugou pipes up during an ad break, “you wanna come to the gym with us sometime?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading my work! For updates, giveaway info, and general thought process, join me!  
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/CalsLaundry  
> Tumblr: calslaundry.tumblr.com  
> Discord: CalsLaundry#9094  
> Pillowfort: https://www.pillowfort.io/CalsLaundry


	27. Cheating (Todoroki Enji)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> Cheating, possessiveness, guilt
> 
> Continuation of day 25.

Friday finishes and you sigh as you close the door of your home. It's been quite a week, and you want to shed it as easily as you shed your work clothes as you walk into your bedroom. But your date had insisted on Friday night, and your dream of Netflix and chill alone was tossed out the window. You shower quickly. It's a low-key date – dinner and drinks – and he's a nice guy. After the incident outside mr. Todoroki's office a few weeks ago, the barista had backed off, but you'd gained the interest of a wonderful man in a different coffee shop, though he was a patron, not an employee. He's excitable, maybe a bit too loud, but his enthusiasm is catchy and you can't say he's not gorgeous on top of it all. Gorgeous enough to earn your favourite underwear under your outfit.  
You're dressed, ready, and about to grab your necessaries when your phone rings.

Mr. Todoroki.

You answer without a second thought.

“Good evening, sir,”

“Sorry to bother you at home, I think I gave you some paperwork I needed,” he does sound apologetic.

“Just a sec,” you rifle through your work bag, and sure enough.

“Paperwork for the bank across town?”

“That's the one,” he sighs, you know how he thinks and he's resigning himself to delaying them.

Your work brain, and perhaps your “please Mr. Todoroki” brain, kicks in.

“I can bring it over?”

“Are you sure? You surely have things to do on a Friday night,” he sounds...subdued.

“No, it's fine, I can delay them a small while, I'll be over in 15 minutes.”

“Thank you.”

You hang up, but nervousness blooms in your belly. You hadn't forgotten how he'd “punished” you, and you certainly hadn't forgotten how many times you'd cum with his name on your lips. But all the same, he has never seen you outside of work clothes (save for how much he'd forced you to bare for his punishment). The wiggle in your belly makes your heart drop with guilt. Of all the people around you, he's the last person from whom you should be hoping for attention. On your way to your car, you shove the guilt aside and type a text; “Gonna be late, gotta do a work thing :(“

Hizashi replies as you get into the car.

“No problem, pretty bird! Maybe I can do the cooking instead ;)”

You smile, reply with excitement and appreciation, and you're on the road.

*

Mr. Todoroki's house is too big.  
You've always thought it. Living alone has given you a taste of the effort of cleaning even your small apartment without help, and you can't justify the size of his home to yourself. Though you doubt he does the cleaning himself.  
You knock on the door, and you already feel out of place in such a beautifully kept yard, but then a beautiful woman with long white hair answers and you feel worse.

“Can I help you?”

She smiles so sweetly, and you feel in your heart that she'd help you if you were here without purpose.

“Ah hello! I work with Mr. Todoroki, I have some paperwork that ended up with my own workload!” you start to reach into your bag, but she holds up a hand.

“I'll let you take them to him, I try not to get wrapped up in his work life,” she steps back and offers you another smile before she walks you through the house.

“Dear, your work friend is here,” mr. Todoroki looks up from his desk.

“I'll leave you two to the work,” she yawns and crosses the room to Mr. Todoroki, “I'm off to bed.”

She kisses him on the cheek and you look away. It feels like you're watching something not meant for you. They mutter to one another and she squeezes your hand as she passes you.

“It was nice meeting you.”

“You too!”

She nods and she closes the door as she leaves. Your brain catches up and you root through your bag.

“Your paperwork, sir,” his eyes finally land on you as you speak. You set it at the edge of the desk as your phone buzzes in your pocket.

“Going somewhere nice?” he asks as he studies the paperwork you've brought with only a quick glance at you.

“Ah, just a date, sir.”

“A date, hmm?” He swivels in his office chair to look at you, “not that barista I hope.”

You chuckle.

“No, sir, a radio DJ.”

He makes a face, one you think is disapproval. You don't know why you so badly want to challenge it.

“Surely a DJ isn't out of my league, sir?”

“None of them are even close to good enough for you.”

That catches your breath.

“Uh...sir?”

He runs his hand up your thigh.

“This all for him?”

You nod.

His other hand grips your hip and he pulls you forward until his nose is inches from your stomach and he looks up at you.

“Are you wearing something nice underneath it for him too?”

“Sir, I don't think...that's appropriate...”

“So you _are._ ”

He presses a kiss to your stomach and even through your clothes, it makes you gasp.

“Sir, your wife-”

“She won't hear a thing.”

You hate that your heart hammers in pure excitement for him. You hate that your sheer lust outweighs the guilt. You hate that you make the next move.

With one hand on his thigh, you straddle his other, and you lean in close to kiss his jaw. The scent of her perfume lingers on his cheek, but you kiss it away and he hums his approval.

But your phone buzzes again, and it's like the universe is reminding you that you're grinding on a married man's thigh.

“I-I have to go, I'm late.”

Mr. Todoroki looks disappointed but he accepts your words with a kiss to your cheek.

“See you Monday.”

*

The week passes quickly simply from how busy it is. Your would be tryst with Mr. Todoroki is still burned in your mind come Friday evening, and when his name appears on your phone as you get dressed after a shower, your heart hammers before you can answer.

“Mr. Todoroki, sir?”

“Again, I'm sorry to call you at home. Did the Reiner files get mixed with your paperwork?”

You check your bag, and sure enough, there they are.

“Yes, sir, I'll be right over.”

You still feel out of place at his door.

Your date with Hizashi was up in the air and you warned him work had once again interfered. Ever the understanding sweetheart, he replied that he'd wait up for you, and afterwards sent a photo that gave you reason to rush to his place when you're done here.  
The door opens, but it's Mr. Todoroki himself this time.

“Oh, sir! I wasn't expecting you to answer the door!”

He chuckles and beckons you inside.  
You root through your bag and produce the paperwork, but Hizashi's photo is still in your minds eye, it's making you restless. You hand it over.

“Another date?” he asks as he sets the paperwork aside.

“Sort of.”

“Then let me delay you a little longer, since it's just 'sort of'.”

He steps forward and his hands find your waist.

“Are you wearing that pretty underwear again?”

You swallow.

“Did he see it last time?”

He kisses you before you have time to answer, and you melt against him.

Before she comes to mind and you push away.

“Sir, your wife...”

“Is at her sister's house,” he kisses you again and this time, you sink into him completely.

He lifts you as if you weigh nothing and carries you through the house with his lips still on yours. His grip is strong and the way his tongue works against yours makes you forget the world.  
Your mind returns when your back meets the bed and he is above you. You're caged between his strong arms, you feel so small underneath him.

“Did you call his name?”

He kisses your neck and nips softly in a way you fear will leave a mark.

“Was your mind on him the entire time?” he kisses down your chest to the waistband of your jeans, and he pushes them down until he's face to face with the underwear about which he had been so curious.

“Or did you slip? Did you remember who you _really_ wanted?”

He kisses your sex without a second thought, as if it had happened a million times before, you groan at the sensation. But the scent of _her_ perfume meets your nose and you're finally aware. You're in their bedroom.  
Your stomach knots with jealousy and guilt all at once, but it's distracted when he kisses you once more.

“Mr. Todoroki-”

“Enji.”

“What?”

“Call me Enji when we're like this,” his voice is soft.

Your resistance is forgotten. You cup his cheek and meet his eyes.

“Enji...”

He smiles and kisses you again.

“Yes, angel?”

His kisses are soft but his fingers dip between your legs.

“I...I can't focus when you do that,”

“Then maybe you don't need to say it right now,” he captures your lips, his hands roam over you, strip you of everything and you do the same to him. The heat of his skin against yours makes you gasp and he chuckles against your neck as he plants a soft kiss there.

“Is that all it takes, little angel?" he bites down, hard enough to mark you, "I can't wait to hear you when I'm inside you,” he pushes one of your knees back to your chest and lines himself up with your hole.

Then your phone rings. You both see the name on the screen.

Hizashi.

“Answer it.”

“W-what?”

“Tell him you're working and you don't know when you'll be there,”

Your body moves before you can stop it.

“Hello?”

“Hey, birdie!” Enji presses the head of his cock into you, “I know you're workin' but I wanna know if you had dinner yet!”

Enji slips in a little further and your voice catches.

“Uh, n-no, I haven't. I can order something when I'm on the way though?” another few inches and your eyes roll and you struggle to keep your voice even, “I'm not sure when I'll be done here.”

“No problem, baby! See you real soon, I hope!”

“See you soon, 'Zashi.”

As you hang up, Enji's hips slam against yours and you yelp.

“' _Birdie_ ', hmm? Wonder how he'd feel knowing his birdie is singing on someone else's cock?”

There's a cruel edge to Enji's tone that you want to fight, but his hips snap and his pace makes you forget anything but his name. He reaches for you, pillows your head, strokes your hair, anything he can reach, and you hold your own leg back for him.

“You want me deeper, hmm? Slutty, needy little birdie,” he grunts the words, but his thrusts change to something slower. He fills you to the brim, you can feel him all the way inside your body, you moan his name and beg him for more, but he stills completely and you whine. He jabs at a spot on your collarbone and your stomach drops.

“Your little _boyfriend_ ,” he spits the word, “will need to learn not to mark other people's property.”

And his hips snap and he is merciless once more. You beg for him without shame but your words die when he puts his forehead to yours.

“Tell me you're mine, tell me you're _only_ mine,” he captures your lips in a quick and sloppy kiss.

“I'm- I'm yours, Enji, no one elses, you have me, body and soul, it's all yours,” the words spill too fast and you mean it and that's worse.

“I'm going to fill you, I'm going to fill that cute little hole of yours and if that fucker tries anything, he'll know he's fucking another man's property,” the pure anger in Enji's voice makes you cling to him harder and your moans come in sobs and whimpers.

“You're mine.”

“I'm yours, I promise,” he groans.

“Prove it, cum for me, cum on my cock, make it yours,” you squeeze around him and your hand drops to touch yourself and his growl against your jaw is what pushes you over the edge. You call his name for every wall to hear, and he groans yours against your neck as he keeps his promise and his cum spills in you.  
You kiss his jaw as he catches his breath and he smiles the most genuine smile you've ever seen on him.  
Once again true to his word, he pulls up your underwear before his cum can dribble out of you.

“Keep it there. No matter what you do with him tonight, I want you to remember.”

“I could never forget.”

He kisses you again, and there's a new ache and you know he feels it too.  
Your hips ache as he dresses you and you pray the spot he bit won't blossom into a bruise.  
But by the door, he cups your cheek and your neck and kisses you again and you forget your prayer.

“I'll see you Monday,” his words tickle your lips.

“See you Monday,” you set off out the door and the weight of guilt hits you.

“Ah I thought it was your car!”

Your stomach drops.

“Mrs. Todoroki, hi!”

“Sorry to scare you, dear. Working late again?”

“Yeah, endless paperwork.”

“You two always work so hard, I'll have to talk to Enji about him interrupting your weekends,” she laughs and you do too, and you give a short wave before you get into your car.

You go to grab your phone but your search is fruitless.  
You look at the house and your gut drops further, far below the depths of Hell.  
You remember your last call.  
The world stops around you.  
A knock on the door makes you jump, and Mrs. Todoroki is there again.

“Your phone, dear,” she smiles. She doesn't know a thing.

“Thank you, I was just trying to find it.”

“Enji was already in the shower and it was tossed on the locker, I think he mistook it for his own until it rang,” she laughs and you join her.

“Probably 'Zashi,” you say, more to coax her from any suspicion than anything.

“Ah yes, your date?”

You nod.

“Seems he's already enthusiastic,” she laughs as she pokes the mark on your neck.

The one her husband left.

“I swear he's going to get me in trouble one of these days,” you laugh and she sighs with a smile.

“Young love is a wonderful thing. Enjoy your date.”

You wave as she walks into the house and you breathe a sigh of relief once you leave their yard.

Now you just have to deal with Hizashi. The guilt hits you again and you pull in and hover over the name for a moment before you hit call.

“Hey!”

“Hey baby, I'm on my way, what you thinking for dinner?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading my work! For updates, giveaway info, and general thought process, join me!  
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/CalsLaundry  
> Tumblr: calslaundry.tumblr.com  
> Discord: CalsLaundry#9094  
> Pillowfort: https://www.pillowfort.io/CalsLaundry


	28. Knotting (Dragon! Kirishima Eijirou)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> Exophilia, discussions and desire for pregnancy, breeding vibes.

Eiji's snores echo through the house.  
_Your house._  
To call it a dream come true is an understatement. You work on breakfast with a soft smile, dressed in your laziest clothes. It's early, much too early for Eiji, but he'll wander out when breakfast is almost ready. As much as he enjoys sleeping beside you, you know he's stretched out on your massive bed like a starfish.  
You turn your attention back to the pan. Cooking for Eiji is a joy, he's grateful. Dragons eat a _lot_ but it didn't take long to adjust. The recent months have been kind, and your years of hidden love have finally emerged. New flowers blossom every day, with every new touch, every new revealed secret, and every new colour you find in his eyes.

“You know,” Eiji's thick chest meets the back of your shoulders, he's still warm with sleep, “ _I'm_ not the one who needs to bulk up to carry.”

“You complaining about getting breakfast, my love?”

“Absolutely not, but as your mate, I have to be sure you're getting your share too,”

“You do plenty for me, _mate_ ,” you hear the puff of delight in his chest when you say it.

He shuffles around the kitchen, sets the table, does whatever he can to make life a little easier on you. In a human sized home, he would barely have the space to sit at the table, but this one is perfect. You feel like a child in it, and some of the counters are a little high, but nothing that small step ladders can't help. Eiji's father had kept this house after his own father – Eiji's grandfather – had passed away in the hopes of gifting it when Eiji found a mate. You'd been worried, of course. Human and dragon mates are hardly something new, but the response can be divisive. But Eiji's parents celebrated! Your friendship with Eiji had brought you to their door a million times, and his mother had confided that she always hoped he'd bring you to them as a mate.

But of course, that brought the question of kids.

“Dragons look like _this,”_ Eiji had gestured at himself when it had come up, “because when we were the complete view of dragons, we mated with humans as well as dragons. Those of us with human blood adapted well to the world. Full dragons are still out there, hidden away in mountains mostly. There are enough dragons breeding with their own that the blood will never die out completely, but...” he had hesitated, “our kids will have less than me. They might not grow as tall, or maybe not have as many scales, or even-”

“Eiji,” he eyed you nervously, “we'll love them regardless, you won't need to convince me to love our children.”

He sighed in relief.

“Besides,” he looked at you again, “from the delivering and human end, smaller might be better...”

  
  


When you sit across the table from him, you know you want his children. You want to watch him when his instincts kick in while you're pregnant, you want to see a tiny him, maybe with your hair or your eyes, sitting on his shoulders, and you want to watch him when your tiny little pudding cup waddles up to his tail and holds it tight.

There's a look on his face, and you know he can smell your body's reaction to him.

“What's on your mind?” he asks in a soft voice.

“Just...our future. Y'know, I know you said dragons can have heat cycles and things, and I know I can't, but,” you run your tongue over your lips, “I think I know how they feel right now.”

You shift in your seat and Eiji swallows.

“Right now, huh?”

“Yeah,”

“We can heat up breakfast,” he stands and rounds the table with a much longer stride than yours. You duck under his arm and run to your bedroom with him close behind, your laughter bounces with each step and even with his instincts taking over and the growl that comes with that, Eiji laughs too.  
You undress quicker than you should be able to, but you know already that Eiji would sooner tear clothes from you than take them off with care. His lips are on your shoulder, he kisses over marks he'd left on your shoulder just yesterday, and you know you'll leave with more, but it's part of the joy. You fall back onto the bed and he's on top of you. He rubs his jaw and neck across you where he can(he insists it's so other dragons know you're taken and ignores when you remind him that humans won't know). You can only smell the faintest hints of his natural scent, it's burned into the bed sheets, but on his skin, it smells much better.

“Eiji,” you whine and he kisses you for all he's worth. He knows you're more than ready. His hard, heavy cock slaps your stomach gently and it leaves a string of pre-cum connecting the tip of him to your skin. You run your finger through the string and lick the finger with your eyes on his and he groans.

“You're gorgeous,” he reaches between your bodies and guides the tip against your entrance, “and you're _all mine._ ”

He takes his time.  
No matter how many times you make love, it's hard to get used to something so big, but that first stretch with the smallest burn feels _so good_.  
Your breath catches when he fills you completely. You wait for his arms to cage you as they usually do when he's on top of you, but instead, the insides of his elbows meet the backs of your knees and he presses your knees back towards your chest, and somehow he gets deeper.

“You want my babies?”

Your breath is too caught for words so you nod.

“You wanna have my babies, I could smell it at the table,” his hips move slowly, and you feel his knot grow with each gentle thrust.

“I'll treat you so good, promise,” his thrusts get faster, “I'll do anything you want to see you full of my offspring.”

You can't say a word, you reach for him as well as you can and stroke his jaw. He turns his head and kisses your palm.

“You want that?”

You nod vigourously.

“Say it.”

“E-Eiji,” your voice cracks.

“Say it.”

“Eiji, I want your babies, I want you to knot me, I want you to fill me every chance we get, no matter the time, give me your babies, Eiji, _please!_ ”

Your voice sounds nothing like you and Eiji loves it.

“I will, I will, I want to knot you,” his voice drops to moans and whines and you touch yourself at the sound and your orgasm sneaks closer and closer and when Eiji growls and pushes his knot into you, you sob his name as it pushes you over that edge. The sensation flickers back to life just a little when his cum fills you. He holds your waist as he rolls onto his back; a more comfortable position now that you're locked together by his knot. You rest your cheek on his chest and he kisses your head.

“Did you ever think we'd be like this? Like, when we were kids?”

“I'm not sure,” you straighten up, fold your arms on his chest and rest your chin on them, “but I did always know we'd be together forever. I guess I just didn't have the right words for why.”

Eiji blushes and smiles.

“Awh, you always loved me, huh?”

“Without a doubt, Eiji,” his blush goes down his neck and he can't say a word, “you're cute when you blush,” his stomach rumbles underneath you, “but we maybe should have finished breakfast.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading my work! For updates, giveaway info, and general thought process, join me!  
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/CalsLaundry  
> Tumblr: calslaundry.tumblr.com  
> Discord: CalsLaundry#9094  
> Pillowfort: https://www.pillowfort.io/CalsLaundry


	29. Student/Teacher(Yamada Hizashi & Aizawa Shouta)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> Ambiguous reader age, student/teacher sex, photographs of sexual acts.
> 
> I couldn't decide which of my favourite teachers to do.  
> So I did both.

You desperately try to hide your yawns. You were up late last night and you're paying for it now. All for some shitty guy who “haha then what?;)”'d his way through conversation and whose dick pictures were akin to a blurry, dimly lit sea creature.

“Is my class boring you?” Mr. Aizawa's voice beside you makes you jump, “see me afterwards, you can answer me then.”

And with that he walks away, continuing...whatever lecture he's giving. _Great._ The tiredness paired with the frustration from last night has your mind wandering further. Mr. Aizawa is gorgeous, but when you're already eager for _something_ better than last night, he seems even better. The bell rings and you wait by his desk as your classmates file out.

“So,” he leans against the desk, arms folded. Half of his hair is tied back, the rest tickles the top of his back, and his eyes are intense when they land on you.

“Was it boredom or something else? You're such a good student, is something wrong?”

“No, sir, just tired,”

“A better excuse and I could have excused you without detention. At least you're not a liar,” your face drops.

“Honesty wasn't worth it...”

“Tell you what, just stay after and help me grade papers. You're well able for that and it keeps you with a clean slate.”

“Yes, sir, thank you, I appreciate it.”

“Mmhm,” he nods and you take that as the okay to leave.

You try to wake up as the day goes on, but it's easier said than done. By English, your mind has shut off even more, and you're worried you won't be capable of grading _anything._

“Wakey, wakey!” Mr. Yamada claps your shoulder as he passes. You jump and he laughs.

“You're lucky class is done, _but_ ,” your classmates leave and you're left alone with him, “you were not there for any of that, right?”

“I'm really sorry, Mr. Yamada, I'm just so tired,”

“With a good reason at least?”

You shake your head.

“Well you know I've got rules, favouritism isn't tolerated,” you wince, _another_ punishment?? “ _But_ I'll lighten the load if you tell me why you're tired.”

“It's...” your cheeks heat up and you look away from him, “it was just this guy.”

“Oh ho ho! I hope he was worth it.”

You grimace and he laughs.

“Oof well, lesson learned, I'm sure. 'Kay, tell ya what, stay after and-”

“Mr. Yamada, I'm already grading today with Mr. Aizawa for...the same reason...maybe I can do yours tomorrow?”

“Hmm...” he puts his thumb to his chin as he thinks, “I'll talk to Mr. Aizawa, we'll figure it out. Now, off you go, maybe get a Red Bull or something before you go see him.”

You nod and thank him and off you go. It's a mess of a day.

 _Never again_.

The final bell rings, and while the others wave and head off home, you walk through the empty halls. They're silent as a church. You wait outside the “teacher offices” door for Mr. Aizawa.  
But Mr. Yamada shows his face first.

“Hey, hey! Did you get that Red Bull?”

You smile; even when he's going to be punishing you, he perks your mood.

“Not quite, but we're gonna power through.”

“That's the attitude!”

He opens the door and leads you through the straight corridor to the final door, marked “Shouta Aizawa”. He knocks twice and pokes his head in.

“Oi, Shouta! I brought your _victim_ ,” he chuckles and you follow him into the office.

“And you didn't even bring coffee to make up for dealing with you for the next hour.”

“You left your student in the hall! I was being polite!” Mr. Yamada holds a hand over his chest in feigned offence but laughs, “you get 'em set up, I'll be back,” he slips away and Mr. Aizawa rolls his eyes.

“Look, we talked it over," he gestures to the office chair beside him and you sit, "this thing is so we're not shit on for favouritism if we let you slide, so just hang out here for an hour or so, we'll say you helped us both grade, and then you can head home.”

“I really appreciate it, mr. Aizawa!” he nods, but there's a glint of mischief in his eye.

“Just promise no more late nights texting boys,” he smirks and you groan.

“I can't believe he told you!”

“I can't believe you told him,” he snorts. Your phone buzzes and you freeze.

“It's after class hours, you can check it if you want.”

You smile your appreciation but you barely hold in a groan; same dude from last night. You turn the screen off and watch Mr. Aizawa as he grades instead.

“I don't know if we're allowed to give students coffee, BUT the machine does a good hot chocolate!”

Mr. Yamada reappears with his hands full of cups and Mr. Aizawa snorts again as he takes two of them before Mr. Yamada can drop them.

“This is less and less like punishment at every turn,” but he puts the hot chocolate in front of you with a smile all the same.

“Thank you, I-” your phone buzzes again. You glance at the notification and grimace.

_When's this guy gonna take the hint?_

“Oh is that the _offender?_ ” Mr. Yamada waggles his eyebrows suggestively and you laugh as you nod.

“Okay, but really,” he shuffles forward on his rolling chair, and plants his elbows on his knees with his cup between his two hands, “was it worth it?”

Your cheeks heat up, you know Mr. Aizawa is watching you too, but you shake your head.

“Not even a little.”

“Any of it?”

You don't know how much you want to reveal to your teachers, but they're both watching with such interest that it slips out.

“It was so _bad_ , like everything was just cringe and the pictures were _so bad_ , just... who says 'I wanna jizz in you' with a winky face? When has that worked?”

Mr. Yamada howls with laughter and Mr. Aizawa chuckles.

“How bad were the pictures?”

“They were barely pictures; it was so dark and blurry, it could have been a moldy hot dog and I wouldn't know any better.”

Mr. Yamada is close to tears and Mr. Aizawa actually laughs properly. You join them, and it's nice to be able to get rid of the frustration after the situation. Your phone buzzes again, and you open the chat just to send a message to say you can't talk but there on the screen before the keyboard comes up is one of your photos.  
Mr. Yamada's laughter halts and he breathes out a quiet “fuck”.

“Everything okay, Mr. Yamada?” you look over at him in concern as you type your message.

“Huh? Yeah, yeah, it's fine,” he shuffles in his chair and glances at Mr. Aizawa. There's some silent conversation between them, but you glance at Mr. Yamada's lap out of the corner of your eye. He's _hard_. But...did he see the photo? Is that why?

“I can't believe he used the word “jizz” in a sexy context,” Mr. Yamada mumbles, as if trying to get back to the humour.

“Well what would you have sent instead, since you're the expert?” Mr. Aizawa's tone is flat with a small tinge of...teasing?

“For a start, I wouldn't text it! It's much nicer to _hear_ a reaction to telling someone 'I want to stuff you so full of cum that it's dripping down your thighs'.”

Your own breath hitches – _oh God don't say he heard, please don't have heard, please no._

“See?” Mr. Aizawa snorts at Mr. Yamada's words, “well what would you have done?”

“Had even a crumb of subtlety for a start.”

“Subtlety's boring! It's overrated!”

“When you're so _loud_ about everything, yeah,” Mr. Aizawa puts his pen down and swivels in his own chair to face Mr. Yamada, “but you know you can just _suggest_ things and let the other person's imagination run with it, or even not talk so explicitly about the details and just tease.”

“I can't see that working, Sho!” but Mr. Yamada smiles as he says it, “prove it does!”

Mr. Aizawa rolls his eyes.

“Just try telling someone they have a pretty mouth and that you want to see it full, works fine.”

Your mind rushes into overdrive and you picture how Mr. Aizawa would from your knees.

“That has never worked!”

“Because you're about as subtle as a train.”

“I can be subtle!”

“And pigs fly.”

Mr. Yamada sets his cup on the desk.

“Fuckin' watch me, Sho!” he smirks wide and turns your chair to face him. He leans in close with a hand on your cheek, and when he speaks, his tone is one you've never heard before. It's low, sultry, desperate. His breath tickles your lips, “You have _such_ a pretty mouth,” his gaze flicks down to your lips them back to your eyes, “I want to see it _full_.”

You swallow, cheeks hot.

“See, works,” Mr. Aizawa is still quiet when victorious.

“Pfft, compared to the shit in those texts, I think anything would work!” Mr. Yamada smirks at you.

You want to prove him wrong, you want to show him even if your friends didn't know what to say, you knew _exactly_ what works.

“Just because the texts I _get_ are low tier doesn't mean the ones I send are.”

Mr. Aizawa raises an eyebrow.

“Oh hoh! Let's find out then, birdie,” he flashes a smirk and Mr. Aizawa settles back, clearly entertained by the banter. You reach for the tress of hair that has slipped from his bun and twirl it around your finger.

“What you said earlier; is that what you think about during class, hmm? Trying to find a way to keep me afterwards in the hopes I'll bend over your desk and beg you to – what did you say – stuff me full of your cum until it's dripping down my thigh?”

Mr. Yamada is lost for words and you push back into your chair and let his hair fall from your finger. Mr. Aizawa chuckles.

“I think you broke him, it's nice to get some silence from him. But,” Mr. Aizawa is beside you, close enough for you to smell the spice of him, “it's unfair that he's having all the fun, kitten.”

Your breath hitches.

“Oh, you like that? So excited from just a cute pet name,” he leans back, “does your little boyfriend call you that?”

“Nope, he's...not my boyfriend for a start, but he just uses 'baby' after every message,” you roll your eyes.

“Seriously?” Aizawa raises a brow.

“Even after seeing _that_ picture he can't come up with something better?” You and Mr. Aizawa look up at him, and Mr. Yamada blushes.

“I...uh...sorry, it was just there when you opened the chat,” for the second time in moments, he's embarrassed.

“What picture is this, hmm?” Mr. Aizawa moves closer and when you look towards him, you're almost nose to nose with him, “you don't have to show me if you're uncomfortable, but I would love to see what has him so enthused.”

You unlock your phone and scroll up the chat and you hear his breath catch.

“You're too good for that him if _that's_ the quality he's getting with such bad results,”

“That's not even the best one...” you mutter the words, well aware the other photos you've taken are better.

“Maybe we'll see the best one sometime, hmm?” he murmurs the words by your ear and goosebumps rise on you.

Then Mr. Yamada is at the other ear, “or we'll _take_ them, I bet you look real cute when you're not able to take the photos for yourself, hmm?”

He nudges your ear with his nose.  
They drop to silence, and you know they're worried they've gone too far.

“Why don't you find out?”

Your words are quiet but they both hear.

“Y'sure?” Mr. Yamada's hand lands on your knee and Mr. Aizawa's on your waist.

“Yes, please, I mean it, I...” your words drop when Mr. Aizawa lands his first kiss on your neck and his hands go under your knees. Mr. Yamada holds the back of your chair as Mr. Aizawa turns you and together, they unbutton and unzip you, toss your clothes into a pile until you're naked between them. Only then does Mr. Aizawa pull your knees over his shoulder and dive between your legs. You groan and your head falls back into Mr. Yamada's lap.

“Oh you're _real_ pretty for us, birdie,” his hands roam over you, caressing, pinching, teasing wherever he can reach. Your head rolls back in his lap, and with Mr. Aizawa's mouth working you, you can't quite find the words.

“Mr. Yamada, _please,_ sir, please,”

“Please what, pretty thing? Be specific~”

He knows exactly what you want, you can hear it in his voice.

“Let me suck your cock, sir, please,”

“ _Fuck_ , I'd do anything for you when you ask like that,” he stands with a hand on the back of your neck and undoes his belt and trousers faster than you thought possible. His cock is long, maybe not as thick as you expected, but he's pierced a few times more than you expected.  
Between your legs, Mr. Aizawa savours you like he hasn't eaten in years, and he presses two slick fingers against your hole at the same moment Mr. Yamada presses himself over your lips.  
You moan around him as he slips in deeper.

“Fuck, Sho, you gotta feel this mouth, it's _something else,_ ” he moans at your tongue moving against him and tracing over those piercings where you can. You whine when Mr. Aizawa's mouth leaves you to speak to his co-worker.

“Was about to say you should have a taste,”

“Oh yeah?~”

Mr. Yamada leans forward, his cock pushing a little deeper into your throat as he does, and sneaks a kiss from Mr. Aizawa.

“You're _fuckin'_ right, wow,” his hips move against your mouth and you squeeze around Mr. Aizawa's fingers, “pity we don't have more time, we really should be savouring everywhere.”

“No time for that,” his fingers curl and make you squeal before they leave you, and the head of his cock presses against your hole, but he pauses, “this isn't your first time, is it?”

There's a hint of panic in his voice but you shake your head and push at Mr. Yamada's hips until his cock slips from your mouth.

“I'm good, just _please_ fuck me, sir,”

He growls out a “fuck" and pushes into you as Mr. Yamada pulls your head back to slip himself back into your mouth. They watch each other, match their paces, slow and steady, and Mr. Yamada toys with your sex with talented fingers. You moan around him with every motion, but he lets out a breathless laugh.

“Already, Sho? Were you fuckin' your hand while your mouth was busy?~”

“You would have too,” he groans and his hips get erratic, “said I wanted to see a pretty mouth full, got what I wanted and liked it even more than I thought.”

He swears and groans your name as his cum fills you. You whine at the feeling, but Mr. Yamada sighs out a swear.

“Forgot how good you look when you cum.”

“Come here,” Mr. Yamada steps away at Mr. Aizawa's words. Side by side, they admire the way your hole has stretched around him, but you wiggle your hips.

“You said you wanted to fill me too, right?”

“Without a fuckin' doubt, pretty bird.”

Mr. Aizawa slips from you with a grunt and Mr. Yamada fills the space he left with a moan.  
Mr. Aizawa is already tucked back into his underwear and redressed fully when he kneels beside you. He kisses you softly, and at the same moment, Mr. Yamada's hands grab your waist, his fingertips trail down your chest and stomach, and he cups your sex.

“You wanna cum, don't you, kitten?” his voice is deeper than usual when he speaks against your lips and you nod.

“Fuck, Sho, I can feel your cum in here, _fuck_ , that's hot,” Mr. Yamada can't hold in his enjoyment and you gasp at how much you enjoy his words.

“You love hearing the right thing, hmm?” Mr. Aizawa kisses you again, “fuckin' naughty thing you are, practically begging to cum on your teacher's cock.”

You cling to his arm and moan, and your other hand digs crescent moons into Mr. Yamada's shoulder.

“Your little comment to Hizashi, that was _your_ fantasy, wasn't it?” you nod, utterly shameless but your words fail you.

“Oh I knew that was your fantasy, so _cute_ ,” Hizashi leans in and kisses your cheek, “but y'know, you're not the only one sneaking your fantasies out and pretending they're random.”

His hips snap against you differently now, with more purpose, stroking parts of you no one has ever touched, and his lips press to your ear as he whispers, now with an edge in his voice that makes you moan his name;

“I want to stuff you so full of cum that it's dripping down your thighs,” he nips at your ear, “and I'm fucking _gonna._ ”

His hips stutter and Mr. Aizawa captures your lips again and his fingers work you until your back arches and you moan into his mouth as your orgasm finally washes through you, and Mr. Yamada is only a moment behind.

“ _Fuck_ , birdie, yes, yes, take every drop from me, babe,” he stills and his cum floods you, and combined with Mr. Aizawa's, it really does threaten to dribble from you.

“Don't think I forgot either, pretty bird~”

He grabs your phone from the desk and pushes one knee back to your chest. Mr. Aizawa pulls the other back for him, and Mr. Yamada snaps a few pictures.

“Not that he deserves to see your hole all sloppy, but just in case you want a reminder.” Mr. Yamada wraps his arms around your waist and helps you stand, though he turns it to a hug that you're happy to accept. Mr. Aizawa joins you both with a kiss to your shoulder.

“Guess our favouritism isn't all that secret anymore, Sho,”

“Not really. Doesn't seem to be a bad thing though.”

You shake your head.

“Not a bad thing at all, but y'know,” Mr. Yamada kisses your cheek before you continue, “this won't discourage me from getting into trouble.”

“Guess it'll need to be real punishment next time, kitten,” Mr. Aizawa punctuates his words with a slap to your ass and you yelp.

“Bet you'd love it just as much, birdie.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading my work! For updates, giveaway info, and general thought process, join me!  
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/CalsLaundry  
> Tumblr: calslaundry.tumblr.com  
> Discord: CalsLaundry#9094  
> Pillowfort: https://www.pillowfort.io/CalsLaundry


	30. Daddy (Todoroki Enji)[FtM Reader]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> Pre everything trans man, Age play, DDLB dynamics and items, infantilization with an adult reader.

“Now now, you're much too small for that.”

Enji's hands land on your binder covered shoulders and you immediately drop your underwear on the bed. The words make you feel so tiny underneath him, even smaller than you already are compared to such a huge man. He takes the underwear from the bed and you turn before he has to ask. When he bends down, you plant your hands on the expanse of his back and his chuckle rumbles through your fingers.

“Step,” you do, “and another,” you obey again, and he tugs your underwear up to your hips as he stands.

“Sit for me, little prince.”

You sit in front of him, your feet dangle from the edge of the bed, he'd always insisted it was better to sleep higher, but you think he just wants you to feel smaller. He puts your socks on with the greatest care, and he gives each ankle a tender kiss before he covers them.

“Now, what outfit has my prince picked for today?”

You point, legs still swinging, at the outfit you've chosen. He doesn't even try to hide his smile.

“You picked this all yourself? Such a smart boy, aren't you!” You nod at his words, your smile is wide, and you reach out to him.

“Not yet, sweetheart, we'll get dressed first, okay?”

You pout, but you nod again.  
The sweater is much much too long, and you toy with the bottom of it while Enji slides your dungaree shorts up your legs. He claps your thighs softly and you stand so he can tie the clasps.

“Such a gorgeous boy, aren't you?” You reach for him again, but you pull your hands back, “What are you missing, baby? Use your words.”

Your voice is quiet and you play with your sleeves.

“S-shoes?”

“Good boy, you're exactly right,” he gives you a wide smile and you return it with pride bubbling in your belly. You step into the shoes and he ties them for you, this time with kisses to your knees before he stands. Finally, _finally_ , he hugs you tight and you breathe him in; he smells like warmth and spice and safety and when he takes your hand, you will follow him anywhere.  
The week until now has been so frantic and stressful and _adult._ That ends with today; a bright shining Saturday with your Daddy. It began with a forehead kiss and promise that he'd take care of you today, that you don't have to worry about a thing. He helps you put your backpack on, and you know it's already packed with your most important things. But Daddy likes to test you, and he dreads to forget anything.

“Now you have your phone?”

You pat your pocket and nod.

“And what needs to be in your backpack, little prince?”

“Uh...jacket, ball, water bottle, charger, paci, and... keys?”

“Exactly right,” he kisses your forehead and holds out a hand, “let's go.”

*

You have always worried that your space is obvious to the outside world. But no one takes notice.  
In his casual clothes, Enji just looks like what he is; an older boyfriend. Though he could easily be mistaken for a sugar daddy.  
Your outfit is that mixture between the two spaces; fashionable but with the comfort of a safety blanket. It doesn't stick out aside from the occasional appreciative glance you get from strangers(and Enji squeezes your hand every time they dare to make it obvious).  
And today, in the otherworldly light of the aquarium, Enji squeezes your hand more than usual. You stare into the shark tank, that same awe still lingers from when you were _actually_ a little boy, and it's hard not to feel infinitesimal, as if the eerie blue glow is the reflection of the world itself.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Enji's voice rumbles beside your ear, and it brings you back to that comfortable space. No matter how small you are in the world, Enji will keep you where he can keep you safe. You turn and wrap your arms around his waist, with your chin on his chest, you look up at him and he looks down at you and the rest of the world disappears. That blue glow might really be the reflection of the world itself as it bounces onto the planet you share with only Enji.

“Just love you,” you murmur and you smile.

“I love you too,” he kisses your nose and you giggle. You turn from him and watch the sharks again, but from the corner of your eye, there's a different glow, a softer one, somehow more transcendental than this one, and your stomach skips with excitement. Usually, you don't stray from Enji's side, but some things are worth sneaking away for, and jellyfish are undoubtedly on that list.  
You know Enji smiles at your face when you watch them, and when you land in front of the biggest of the tanks, you struggle to keep the squeal of sheer delight inside.

“Which is your favourite?”

The voice that meets your ears is not Enji's, and for a moment, your insides freeze.

“Uh...” you point at the prettiest, the one that looks like a ghost in a ball gown.

“Good pick, almost as pretty as-”

Enji's hand around your shoulders interrupts him and you turn into his chest. The stranger shuffles away with a cold glance from him, and as soon as no one is near enough to hear, you beckon Enji down to your height.

“Sorry I ran off, daddy,” you squeeze his hand, but he simply smiles.

“I know, baby, I know you just got excited,” he kisses your head and just like that, your private planet with Enji is safe from intruders, and for the rest of your trip, you don't dare stray again.

*

You yawn while your dungarees fall to the floor.  
The aquarium, lovely as it was, had left you sleepy, and dinner with your daddy had only added to it. But he had kissed your head and told you “it's very important that little boys get their bath” and you could never say “no” to that. The bath fills behind you, thankfully it is bigger than any bath you've ever seen.  
He undresses you as carefully as he dressed you, and he leaves you standing naked in the bathroom when he puts the clothes in the hamper. He returns in only his underwear and you resist the urge to touch him.

“ _After bathtime,” that's the rules._

He checks the water with one hand and the other runs up the back of your thigh and over your rear.

“I think it's about ready, prince, in you go,” You step in and bring your knees to your chest. He washes you with gentle hands, and you know the quicker he washes you, the quicker he'll join you.  
But he must know you're eager.  
He's painfully slow with each limb, by the time he runs his hand over your chest, you whine.

“Daddy...”

“Yes, my angel?”

“P-please...”

“Please, what, baby?”

“Uhh...”

“I can't do anything if you don't tell me what it is you want.”

“I...I want Daddy to come in with me...”

“Now ask with proper manners.”

“Please join me in the bathtub, Daddy.”

“Good boy, that's better.”

He sheds his underwear and gets in behind you. He pulls you back until your back is against his chest and you sigh.

“Thank you, Daddy.”

“Anything for my little prince.”

*

He offers to dress you after your bath, but stubbornly, you insist you can do it this time.

“Lemme try, Daddy, I can do it, I promise!”

He chuckles.

“Alright then, sweetheart, I believe you. You want me here just in case?”

“No! Go uh...go pick a movie! Please...” He kisses your head again, and you're left alone to dress yourself.  
And you know _exactly_ how Daddy likes you dressed at night.

You slink out into the living room quietly, and he's on his phone. Stuffie held tight in front of you, you settle beside him, legs folded underneath you. It's just some random show, one you've seen before and you don't mind ignoring it when he presses play.

“Let me see how you've dressed yourself, prince.”

He's shirtless with just his own lounge pants. You stand, stuffie still in front of you, shy under his gaze.

“You shy, baby boy?”

You nod.

“But you're going to show Daddy your hard work, aren't you?”

You nod again, and you hold your stuffie out to him. He sets it beside him, very comfortable against the cushion he assures you, and his eyes fall over you with a new edge to them.

“You look so good, baby, that your sweater from today, yeah?”

“Yeah,” your voice trails.

“Those socks aren't from today though,” he runs his hand over the striped thigh highs that match your sweater so well.

“No, Daddy. Do you like them?”

“I like them so much, baby boy,” his hand sneaks under your sweater to your hip.

“Uh-oh, I think you forgot something,” his voice is hoarse.

“Did I, Daddy?” you pout.

“You did, sweetheart,” he spreads his knees a little wider and you step between them. He runs his hands up to your waist, forcing your sweater to bunch at his wrists. He kisses your stomach, but his lips meet your naked sex without a moment to spare. His tongue dips between your folds, tickles your clit, and you grip his hair.

“You forgot your underwear, baby boy,” despite the comment, his tongue teases you again.

“I'm sorry, Daddy,” your voice is breathless.

“You've been so good today, I think I can let this slide. I have one more little gift for you, prince.”

He kisses just above your bellybutton and pulls you forward until you straddle his lap.

“You were so good for me, baby, I'm so proud of you, I wanna make you feel good, do you want that?”

“Yes, please, Daddy! B-but...”

“Hmm?” concern crosses his features.

“Wanna make Daddy feel good too...”

He stands with you in his arms and you wrap your legs around his waist as well as you can.

“You will, baby, you always do, you know just how to make Daddy feel good,”

He walks you to your shared room, lips on yours as if it's all that keeps him tied to your little planet. He murmurs against your lips; praise, affections, adorations you've heard again and again.   
Your mind can't quite keep up with him, you resort to idle pleads and murmurs of “Daddy”, but that's more than enough. He's already hard against you, and you're already dripping for him. He puts you on the bed gently, as if you'd break otherwise, and you're all too happy to beg before he kisses the breath from you.

“Baby boy, it's been such a good day, did you have fun with Daddy?”

“Mmhm, yes, Daddy!”

“Good, baby, I had such fun too,” he kisses over your stomach again and you know what he wants but you meet him with a whine rather than a welcome.

“What is it?”

“I...I want Daddy,”

“You have me, prince.”

“No, I want...Daddy,” you run the ball of your foot over his erection with the greatest care.

“Oh, a little greedy, are we?” but he's smiling

“Pretty please, Daddy, I'll beg all you want, I'll do anything you want, I-”

“Shh, sweetheart.”

You quiet.

“I'll give you everything you want, darling boy,” he cages you before he kisses you, and the tip of him teases over your clit, “you've earned it, you've been so good for me.”

You spine tingles at the praise, but you whimper when he leans back.

“I'm not going anywhere, baby boy, Daddy's here,” he guides himself into you, though your moan urges him forward quicker than he'd like.

“I can't resist when you whine like that for me, you're so eager for your Daddy, aren't you?”

“Yes, Daddy!” your mouth falls open as he fills you and your eyebrows screw together.

“You've been the best boy for me, you deserved every single bit of praise,” he grunts the last word and his hips slap against yours with such an obscene sound. Your head falls to the side, rules forgotten in the heat of the moment.

“Now, now, little prince, where should you be looking?” his hips slow and you force your eyes back to him.

“You, Daddy, I'm sorry, just-” you whimper again, “feels so good.”

“I know, sweetheart,” his hips snap again, “you feel amazing, the perfect fit, Daddy's perfect little thing, _fuck_...”

His voice trails and you hook your hands behind your knees and pull them back to your chest and his restraint vanishes. His hands cover yours and you slip yours away, your nails dig into his shoulders as his cock slips deeper, until you're certain you're choking on it.

“Daddy, Daddy, it's so much, I need...” your words are lost when he leans down to kiss you.

“Do it, darling, do it,” your hand slips between your bodies and the other digs harder into his shoulder. You rub quick circles, no rhythm, only desperation, and the only words you can find are “please, Daddy” repeated like a mantra.

“That's it, baby, I can feel you squeezing, you wanna cum on Daddy's cock?”

“Please!”

“Say it,” the words are a growl.

“I-I wanna cum on Daddy's cock!” your orgasm threatens from your toes and he swears against your lips before he repeats himself;

“Cum on my cock, come on, baby, cum for me.”

You eyes squeeze shut and you're sure you moan “daddy” as the pleasure finally rips through you and your back arches as well as it can in this position, but he thrusts faster, more desperate, and his commands are reduced to grunts and whines until he groans your name and he slips from you just enough for his hot cum to coat between your legs.  
Catching your breath proves difficult, and it's not any easier when he dips down to kiss you again.

“Fuck, I'll never get used to how amazing you are around me,” he laughs though it's breathless.

“Neither will I, God, it's better than anything,” you cup his cheeks and pull him back for another kiss.

“We've gotta get you cleaned up.”

It's not a suggestion.  
It's not long before you're cleaned up, the socks and sweater are in the hamper, and you're covered instead by one of his t-shirts. He's on his back beside you, and your head is tucked against his shoulder. Your breath gets heavier with sleep, but a small whisper of your name pulls you back.

“Hmm?”

“I love you, you know that.”

You smile against his shoulder and plant a small kiss there.

“I love you too, Enji.”

“We're back to Enji?”

You giggle.

“I love you too, Daddy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading my work! For updates, giveaway info, and general thought process, join me!  
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/CalsLaundry  
> Tumblr: calslaundry.tumblr.com  
> Discord: CalsLaundry#9094  
> Pillowfort: https://www.pillowfort.io/CalsLaundry


	31. Free Space (Yamada Hizashi)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> Mentions of cheating, guilt, nonconsentual recording of sexual acts, questionable consent.
> 
> Continuation of Day 27(Cheating)

“Hey, pretty bird!”

Hizashi's smile is bright as the sun when he opens the door.

“Hey!”

The smell of Enji is still all over you, and you don't know how well you hide the guilt. It must be a secret because Hizashi kisses you just like he always does, though he steals the bag of food from your hand at the same time.

“Hope you're as hungry as I am~” his tone is as playful and singsong as it always is, and it makes your stomach writhe with self hatred. But you settle beside him on the couch, legs over his even while you eat together, and he tells you about his day and it feels like everything is fine. Maybe you've gotten away with it.  
He walks his fingers up your thigh and your body stiffens.

“You're jumpy tonight, everything okay?”

He pulls his hair back to a messy bun as he waits for an answer.

“Y-yeah, of course! Just tired. Long week. The usual.”

You force a smile, and for a moment, you think he won't believe you.

“Well...” he thinks for a moment, “you don't have to tell me anything, but you know I'm always here for you, babe. Anything you need, okay?”

You nod and he steals a kiss. All seriousness leaves and he kisses all over your face until you're giggling and squealing and suddenly your back is against the couch and he's above you, eyes on yours and his nose only millimeters from yours.

“You're the most gorgeous thing,” he kisses you again, more deeply, and your hand cups the back of his neck, “I'm so lucky, y'know that?”

He kisses your cheek and you sigh. The softness of him is magical, and you're sure he knows everything he does to you. His fingers trail over your waist as he speaks.

“You're an angel, far beyond what I ever expected when I met you, and if you give me a chance, I want to-”

He stops.

His hands stop.

There's beat after beat of silence.

“Hizashi?”

“Is that why you were late?”

His hand curves around the back of your neck and his smile is long gone. His thumb traces something on your neck and your stomach grows sick with fear.

“I-I can explain,”

“If the explanation is something other than you fucked someone else, go ahead.”

Your voice dies in your throat.  
That silence returns, Hizashi sucks his teeth in anger and hurt but his hands don't leave you.

“You want to go back to them?” his words are sharp.

“No! No, I came here because I want you, not him, that was a mistake!”

“You're fucking right it was a mistake,” his hands hook under your knees and he pulls you towards him. His usual sexy grin is replaced with a look of pure rage, you're sure his teeth could pull back in a snarl at any moment.

“It was a mistake that he thought he could mark some other man's property,” you shiver at how Hizashi's words echo Enji's, “did he really think I'd hand you over that easily?”

“'Zashi...” your voice trails, but he silences you with a bruising kiss.

“I'm going to remind you who you belong to, little birdie, I don't care what he did to you, I'm going to remind _you,_ ” he stands and drags you with him by the wrist. He doesn't even look back at you when he speaks.

“I'm going to make sure the only hands you remember on you, the only mouth, the only cock you remember in you is mine,” he turns to you once you're in his room, and his grin is back but it's not that grin that made your stomach flip on the first day. It's one that sends shivers down your spine, one that promises he won't be the gentle, sweet Hizashi you're used to.  
His kiss is closer to a vicious bite, he nips at your lower lip as he strips you, bites your collar bones once they're exposed, and when your underwear finally slips down your legs, he slaps your ass hard enough to sting.  
You love every second of it.  
He's gone from puppy to werewolf at only a mark. What will he turn into when he sees Enji's cum dribbling from your hole?  
He shoves you back onto the bed and you try to pull your legs together, try to hide the real marks of your betrayal from him. But he pushes your knees apart.  
The sight has his fingers digging into your knees, but that same sinister smile doesn't falter.

“He really thought he could own you like that, huh...”

It's not a question, but you wouldn't have an answer if it was.

“I'll give him credit, that's a fair attempt,” he licks his lips and sheds his own clothes, “But all he's done is keep you wet for me.”

Hizashi strokes his cock a few times before he presses the tip to your hole, and your breath catches when he shoves himself in all at once.

“Gross,”

_Is he talking about you?_

“Don't worry, birdie,” he kisses you, much too soft for the way his hips slap against you, “it's cute that your secret boyfriend thought he could mark you, but he could have tried a little harder.”

Hizashi's lips land on your neck and he kisses the mark Enji left. Then he bites it, hard enough for you to yelp. He suckles the skin without a falter in his hips, you sob at the sensations, they twist together into something much more intense than they should.

“Hizashi-”

“Unless you're apologising or telling me who you belong to, keep your mouth _shut,_ ” he snaps against your neck, “though I have no reason to believe you when you say who you belong to.”

He pulls back and one hand lands on your neck while the elbow of the other arm props him up, inches from your face.

“But don't you worry, I'll remind you exactly who that pretty little cunt belongs to,” he squeezes your throat and you gasp, “it's not that secret boyfriend, and it's certainly not you, is it?”

You shake your head, all words would come as moans, and you know it.

“Then say it.”

He loosens his grip for you to speak, but you can only whine.

“Come on, birdie,” his hand leaves your throat completely and he gives your cheek a light slap, “or I won't let you cum.”

“Y-you...”

“What about me?”

“You...” you mumble out the rest but he slaps your cheek again and you moan.

“Speak clearly, pretty bird~”

“My cunt belongs to you, Hizashi!”

“Better,” he reaches for something, the slap of his hips keeps you disinterested in whatever he's searching for.

“Now,” he holds a phone – your phone – over you with your front camera facing you and smirks, “repeat that.”

“W-what?”

“Repeat yourself so we can show your little secret boyfriend, I think I know who it is~”

“Wait, no!”

“Yes, birdie,” his hips snap just right and you whimper his name, “come on now, the sooner you say it, the sooner you can cum.”

He hits record without looking.

“M-my cunt belongs to you, Hizashi...” a harsh slap against your ass makes you squeal.

“Louder, pretty bird~”

“My cunt belongs to you, Hizashi!”

He turns the camera as he leans down and you're both in frame. His free hand grips your jaw and smooshes your cheeks in an unflattering way, his eyes are on the camera but your eyes are on him, even as he forces your face towards it.

“You heard it from the source,” Hizashi's tone drops, his hips are still moving, and now that he's so close, he pushes against your clit just right and you moan, “keep your hands off my birdie, I'm sure your _wife_ wouldn't be as happy as I am to see this video.”

He hits stop and fumbles with your phone until you hear the little “sent” noise. Fear tumbles through your belly again, but Hizashi's thrusts become erratic, and the video is forgotten in moments. Your back arches and you beg for him. He kisses you fiercely, like he really does want to remind you. You cling to his back, dig lines deep enough to bleed and moan his name like it's the only word you can remember.  
But the closer you get, the more floods back to you and you cup his cheeks and pull him closer to you.

“I'm sorry, Hizashi, I'm so sorry, I-”

He kisses you again and again.

“I know, birdie, don't...” he groans, “maybe we shouldn't have this conversation at this exact moment.”

You laugh then grunt when his hips pick up.

“I haven't forgotten about that reminder,” he sucks another mark against your neck and another and another, and by morning, you're certain there'll be a garden of reminders. Your nails dig in again when his hips hit your clit and your head falls back.

“'Zashi, there, right there, please, I need it, I need you,” the words tumble without a thought. You worry he'll edge you, tease you, maybe even outright deny you.

But he doesn't.  
He groans your name, begs, pleads, whines. When you squeeze around him and call his name, it pushes him over the edge, and his cum spills into you and replaces every trace of Enji. He fall to the side of you, not catching your eye just yet.

“Hizashi, I really am sorry,” you reach for his hand, and you're grateful when he doesn't pull it away.

“I know it's early for us, but I...” he swallows, “I don't want this to end.”

“Neither do I, it was stupid, it was so stupid, never again.”

He cradles you against his chest and the guilt finally leaves. But you look up at him and he knows your mind is working at something else.

“What is it, birdie? I know that face,”

“I know it was spurred on by my...mistakes, but I mean,” you trace circles on his waist and lick your lips, “if you ever want to video me saying that again, I think I'd be okay with it.”

“I don't think we'll have to video _that_ again, but I'm sure I can think of plenty more to have you say,” he smirks.

“Why not that?”

“You don't think I only sent that to him, did you?~”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE DID IT!  
> 31 days of writing, I can't believe we made it! Thank you, thank you for reading, especially if you've managed all of this.  
> As always, for updates, giveaway info, and general thought process, join me!  
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/CalsLaundry  
> Tumblr: calslaundry.tumblr.com  
> Discord: CalsLaundry#9094  
> Pillowfort: https://www.pillowfort.io/CalsLaundry
> 
> Love you, guys! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading my work! For updates, giveaway info, and general thought process, join me!  
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/CalsLaundry  
> Tumblr: calslaundry.tumblr.com  
> Discord: CalsLaundry#9094  
> Pillowfort: https://www.pillowfort.io/CalsLaundry


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